


Revelations - Falsae Assumptiones

by Severiner, Xobit



Series: Sequelae Fatorum [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Enemies to Friends, M/M, Negotiations, Slow burn Megatron/Optimus, Trade summit, Undercover, ritual dancing, ritual fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 30,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23950231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severiner/pseuds/Severiner, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xobit/pseuds/Xobit
Summary: Fate stirs and lives are changed...
Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime
Series: Sequelae Fatorum [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726582
Comments: 260
Kudos: 185





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ~~If anyone who knows Latin would like to suggest better title translations, please do so! Google Translate is baaad XD~~
> 
> Thank you to PersefoneFuxia!

Megatron was quite honestly bored already. He was not the one who made trade agreements for the Decepticons, but at an event such as this it was not enough to send ambassadors. A gathering on this scale required the leaders, warlords, kings, queens, ministers and whatever else planetary empires called their rulers. There were some fairly fantastical titles out there…

“It is quite an excellent energon,” he nodded to the buzzing creature who had inquired about his drink, “but I don’t know if your kind is able to digest it. I have never met an organic species that could.” 

Optimus felt nervous, over large and too small at the same time, as well as very alone even though he had a guide with him. The creature would stay with him until the rest of the Autobot delegation arrived.

Sentinel would have an even worse time, a lot of the races were organic, Optimus found he could cope with that, but Sentinel hated anything even remotely organic since the training incident where they lost Elita one.

The hall was huge, and he kept to the edges hoping to avoid… well everyone.

“No, it was my pleasure, and be sure to avoid the refreshment hall coded with yellow,” what was the name again? Viridanings, yes, from the Viridan cluster… A queen probably, considering it, she, was decked out in silver and platinum. Possibly a lesser queen, but he had yet to see one decked out any fancier so maybe not. Insectoids at least made a certain kind of sense, it was much harder with the smaller and more squishy organic species. Most of which employed hover platforms so they could converse with the larger life forms. 

A Dragonian warlord lumbered past, the huge six limbed beast inclined its leftmost head to him with the respect of one warrior to another and Megatron paid it back. Dragonians were also organic, but neither smaller than him nor particularly squishy. He was looking after the warlord with consideration when a gong sounded, the boom so deep he felt it in his very struts. 

The dance… wonderful, with a partner picked out to compliment him. Megatron could hardly wait for that!

Optimus swallowed the lump in his throat when he heard the gong. His guide chittering, looking around before pulling him along even though it was smaller than him and techno organic. Of course it… he? knew who his partner was for the dance. All Optimus knew was they were a technological race and large.

“Yes, meeting new beings is always interesting,” Megatron answered gravely, the deep booming clacks of the rather terrifying techno organic crustacean from V-lord making him want to shift away. T’Claclak, the name was almost impossible to pronounce, was actually a very pleasant conversationalist and a much accomplished tactician. But the clacks made his plating vibrate almost unpleasantly, and also made him heat slightly in arousal. 

“Oh, I fear my name is up, thank you kindly for your conversation,” he turned and stepped around a few others to walk up to the ‘matchmaker’. 

Oh, that was right, he had been told this. They would be brought before the ‘matchmaker’ in pairs until all were paired up. For various reasons the pairing was never random. It made sense with so many different races, they had to choose partners who were compatible and whose races were not at war or enemies with each other.

“I will be fine,” Optimus forced a smile as his guide seemed reluctant to leave him just yet. The Halyon were very dedicated to their given duty and Hal’rym was no exception.

His first inkling that something was wrong was when the name Optimus Prime rang out. ‘Prime’ was not a uniquely Autobot term, but it still made him stiffen. The small, cheerfully colored mech that arrived not too much later, looking awfully young and like he wanted to be a million miles away… was the second and much more blatant clue. Not only was it clearly a Cybertronian, but he was very clearly marked as an Elite Guard Prime. 

The Cybertronian civil war was technically at a standstill, a peace treaty was in existence. But still… to expect him to… Megatron very much wanted to kill someone, but that would not precisely be the best political image to project. So instead he smiled cooly and bowed to his dance partner. 

Optimus stepped further forwards when his name was announced looking around then freezing on the spot when he spotted the Decepticon leader at the same time as the mech’s designation was announced again, proclaiming them to be partners for the dance.

A little frantically he looked around for his guide, but the creature was already out of sight. With a sense of dread he slowly turned back to lock optics with Megatron. Scrap!

“A… pleasure to meet a young Prime,” if there was an edge to his tone Megatron didn’t think most would catch what it held. He offered a hand to the smaller mech, rather a lot smaller, and kept his cool smile up. 

“If you will, we are expected to join the dance floor now.” 

Optimus nearly balked, looking at the outstretched hand with a lot of trepidation. Looking back up he squared his shoulders and lifted his chin.

“I am sorry if I can not repeat the sentiments. However you are correct, it is expected,” he said tightly, placing his hand in the offered much larger one.

“At least you are honest, little Prime,” Megatron didn’t close his hand around the smaller one, but instead turned half way to lead them both onto the dance floor. 

“Do you know how to dance?” many did not after all. 

Optimus found himself ridiculously grateful that Megatron did not ‘capture’ his hand. Steeling himself he walked with Megatron to the dance floor where other pairs were already gathering.

“I was given some lessons before arriving. In both leading and following,” He replied on automatics, trying to still the slight trembling. Some of the dances had seemed rather intimate, something he really did not want right now.

“And you know I am expected to lead as I am the biggest?” Megatron noted the trembling but chose not to comment. 

“And likely far more experienced,” Optimus nodded, “I was informed of protocols.”

Despite his words he made no move to take the proper position. He simply could not make sense of the fact that he would be dancing with the leader of the Decepticons, the Slag maker himself!

“It would help if you moved, little mech, I cannot dance alone,” Megatron rumbled as soothingly as he could, “I promise not to step on you. I have done this before.” 

Optimus huffed a little, he knew that and could guess at the rest! Shifting he frowned, there really was quite a large size difference, there was no way they would be able to take a traditional hold.

“I hope you know how to compensate for such a difference in size,” Optimus finally gave in, completely uncertain for how to proceed.

“I do,” but the whole dance was sedate and slow just for that reason anyway. All he would have to do was make sure he did not step on the smaller mech’s pedes or yanked him around when he was unprepared. 

And it did go without much of a hitch as they started the smooth, slow and even steps of the dance. 

“So, little mech, I did not anticipate that the Autobots would leave Cybertron to participate in the galactic trade meeting. You haven’t for vorn. What has changed?” 

“It is not good that we have isolated ourselves so much from such events. It is beginning to show in trade relations,” Optimus kept his answer as vague as he could while still telling the truth.

He was more than a little surprised at how smoothly and easily they managed to dance, despite the size difference. He could not help but notice how graceful Megatron was.

“Well, that is a deduction I didn’t need spelled out, little mech, something must have changed drastically for the Autobots to lower themselves to hubnub with organics,” Megatron kept a snort in by pure will. The Decepticons had been sceptic of organics in the past, but trading with them had offered much… Autobots took that reservation to a whole different level!

“Classified information,” Optimus retorted, the Decepticons didn’t need to know any of this, it was bad enough that they were forced to dance with each other. The last thing he needed was Megatron of all mech digging for information.

“I am not at liberty to discuss our trading arrangements. If you truly wish to know Ultra Magnus will be arriving in the next few orn,” Optimus quickly amended. The last thing he needed was to anger the Decepticon warlord.

Well, well, the little thing could peck. Megatron was more amused than anything, especially when the little Autobot seemed to realize he might have made a mistake and amended his words. 

“Thank you for the warning, I shall make sure to make it known that my delegation and UItra’s are not housed together. It would be bad form to fight at this meeting.” 

Optimus relaxed a little of the tension he had not realised had been there from his, almost, possible mistake.

“I agree, that would be for the best. Likewise I shall warn of your presence so the rest of the Autobot delegation will not cause a scene in public upon finding out.”

“Sense from an Autobot? Perhaps you are not quite as hopeless a code strain as certain of my officers believe,” well, Starscream had called them worse, and probably had more insults in store for them if he ever got the chance. 

Optimus glared and bristled his armour at that insult… well very backwards compliment. He chose not to dignify it with a comment, not wanting to start an argument and certain that is what responding would lead to.

“Sore subject? Well, it is little different than what we are labled as on Cybertron. Monsters, protoform eaters, bad code… to mention a few,” Megatron rumbled with amusement. It was quite fun to needle the smaller mech. Certainly more fun than he usually had at these events. However… 

“I believe you will now get a respite, little mech, for as long as you want it,” stepping back he let go of the small hands, slowly, and bowed deeply. 

“It has been a honor, Optimus Prime.” 

Optimus wanted to make a retort back but did not get a chance, likely a good thing. He returned a polite bow on automatics.

“Wish I could say the same,” he replied honestly. He felt quite shaken and uncertain of what exactly had happened. He had felt honoured to be sent on ahead of the rest of the delegation, but now he was not so sure.

Megatron just smiled, wondering if the little mech would be at the negotiating tables or not. He seemed a little too… honest to make a good politician. 

“Unless you're Magnus hides you away for his own pleasure I am sure we shall see each other again,” the parting comment could be taken a good number of ways, and he meant it to be so. 

Optimus gaped after Megatron for a moment before remembering himself and schooling his expression. Had he just implied...? Rather shaken he went to find his guide again. The quadruped finding him as he hugged the walls searching.

The chittering speech which had seemed so strange to him before now was a comfort and he answered the inquiries as best as he could.


	2. Chapter 2

Megatron was amused for the rest of that evening's entertainment and refreshments, and then put the small Cybertronian Prime out of his mind. He was there to work, not to amuse himself. 

So when he met the Magnus of Cybertron two orn later, Prime entourage and all, his amusement mostly lay in the fact that a certain Longarm Prime had been brought to this meeting. What irony. He stayed civil enough, and so did Ultra, the same could not be said for all of the Primes. 

Mostly really, just one of them though, a blue and yellow one with a big chin and a bigger ego. Megatron told his Cybertronian counterpart where one could buy excellent gags as a parting shot before moving on to the next social situation. 

Optimus had managed to get a message out to Ultra Magnus, detailing the events of the first orn of the event. He was very glad for that since shortly after he had reunited with the rest of the delegation they managed to happen across Megatron.

There was some hostility, but the encounter went smoothly enough. He could not help but smirk a little at the parting comment at Sentinel’s expense. Really his fellow Prime should have known better than to run his vocaliser. It also made him relax a little more about how his initial encounter with the Decepticon warlord had gone. It appeared that such snark was something Megatron used often.

The urge to see his long entrenched subordinate was… harder to fight. Shockwave was not alone on Cybertron, but was deep undercover and only called if something was important beyond all measure, or one of the four vornly calls to simply assure he was alive and working. Megatron attempted to be the one to accept all these calls, his intelligence officer needing to know that he was important for the cause. 

But it would be very dangerous for the mech to leave Magnus. Still he made it known to him that should he be able to sneak away, without making it obvious, his Decepticon brethren would value his company. Since he had brought neither Lugnut nor Starscream that was the truth. 

With the rest of the Autobot delegation there, Optimus found far less attention on himself, something he was very grateful for. However he also found himself to be in charge of, unofficially, of keeping his fellow Primes out of trouble. Mostly that meant keeping an optic on Sentinel and cutting him off before he could manage to insult anyone important.

However this evening it seemed that keeping a watch on Longarm was also his duty, the mech appeared like he wanted to go somewhere. Hanging back Optimus watched, determined to follow and see what had caught the other Prime’s interest.

“Isn’t it a bit unhealthy to stalk your own kin?” Shockwave’s frustration with his ‘fellow’ Prime’s hovering was clear even in this guise. Megatron was mostly intrigued at why the tiny, bright colored thing would hover so. 

“If you like him, why not just ask for his company?” he looked down at the small mech. 

Optics wide Optimus spluttered, seriously were the Decepticons always thinking with their interface? Or was it just Megatron?

“I simply wish to keep my fellow Primes safe,” Optimus finally managed, standing his ground when all he wanted to do was flee.

“By spying on them? What if he is off to see an organic… or a techno organic, or one of the other technological species in private? Do you not trust the security set up here?” Megatron said with great amusement. Sometimes the best lie was the truth after all…

“Do Primes not have the right to privacy, and to feel things for others not like themselves?” 

“If he wanted that then he would have put in a request to Ultra Magnus for an allotment of time. He would grant it to Longarm,” It was protocol and he knew for a fact that Longarm had not requested such a thing.

Optimus huffed and glared, daring Megatron to find something wrong with that.

“So… your private time is not yours at all? My, well, I see what the famed Autobot freedom is… I much prefer that of my own people, thank you. And all things considered, if you wanted to smooch with an organic, would you really ask for the time off for it with your dear Magnus?” Megatron tried hard not to laugh outright. 

“It is so we can keep track of where each other is at any given time. While hostilities are not expected something can happen at any time. And we don’t have to say exactly what we plan to do, just where we are going and how long we expect to be unavailable for,” Optimus retorted a little angrily, his armour wanting to bristle again, so far he was keeping it down, but really was Megatron trying to pick a fight with him?

“And you call that freedom? You are safe here, were I, just as an example, to put a hand on you without being invited or required to, I and my delegation could be thrown out of the gathering! It wouldn’t even have to be an aggressive touch… It could simply be me wanting to feel your cute little aft,” this was… actually too much fun. He shouldn't enjoy needling the mech this much! 

Optimus’ armour plating clenched tight to his frame and he involuntarily took half a step back.

“I would not expect you to understand. I don’t question the way your Decepticons do things, so why should I have to explain our ways to you?” His posture might be on the submissive side but his growl was not.

“Perhaps because it was your wish to make my people conform to your ways in any manner needed, little Prime, if it had not been for that quirk of the Autobot code, there would have been no war,” Megatron shrugged, not at all intimidated by a growly youngling, Prime title or no Prime title. 

“Be calm, as much as you would look amazing fragged out of your little processor, I would never sink so low as to do it without permission and consent,” he sneered a little. 

Optimus’ optics widened and he stepped back again, not at all reassured, “This has nothing to do with that! And what, why?... why would you even mention that?!”

He darted a glance around, making sure he had a clear shot to an exit, not sure if he should use it yet or not.

“Why should I not mention it? You are not a bad looking mech, if a little small… but then that would only be a challenge wouldn’t it,” Megatron’s smile had taken a decidedly wicked edge, and his tone had dropped to nearing a purr. 

Optimus gaped at Megatron shaking his helm mutley. He hesitated a moment before deciding that leaving was his best option.

Back in his assigned quarters Optimus shuddered leaning his helm against the wall. Why… just why?

Hm, well, sexual innuendo had the desired effect, even if there was some disappointment in the outright rejection. Megatron had only spoken the truth after all!

“Shockwave,” the quarters were secure enough that he had no care to use the Autobot given name for his most loyal mech. It would have been an insult had he done so. 

“My liege,” Shockwave changed form and knelt in a deep bow, one clawed hand resting over his spark.

Optimus groaned as the mild arousal refused to go away, why did it have to be Megatron. Why could he not be attracted to someone… to an Autobot.

“It is good to see you in your proper form. However our time is limited, so tell me, why are the Autobots here?” much as he would have loved to give his lieutenant some time in his true form, and free of the Autobots, neither of them had that time. This… was dangerous enough, as evidenced by the young Prime following around on ‘Longarm Prime’s’ heels. 

“There is unrest and shortages all across Cybertron. Ultra Magnus is seeking trade agreements for sources of energy in exchange for metals which they have in abundance. The Elites know little of this, the council is keeping it tightly under wraps, My lord,” Shockwave remained kneeling as he gave his report.

“So desperation, do your fellow Primes realise the reason they are here?” Megatron asked with some curiosity. It was nothing that the different spies and Shockwave himself had not already reported on, but there were the option for more details now. Maybe, if there were any to share. 

“They know some of it but not all. They know what is to be traded but not why. I myself had to do a lot of digging to uncover just how bad the situation is getting, mostly due to overpopulation,” Shockwave offered a data chip, “This contains all the information I have to date.”

“Good work,” Megatron rumbled, taking the chip from the large claws, “overpopulation? I thought they had restricted breeding? Did they stop or have there been a new development?” 

“In an attempt to control the masses they encouraged more breeding so that the supplies given to them would be stretched, keeping them hungry and unquestioning. However it has gotten a little out of hand and they are working to prevent outright starvation,” Shockwave explained even though the information was also on the chip.

“So the same cycle as with us,” Megatron nodded, frowning, “are there anyone speaking up?” a chance to help someone on the inside? To perhaps regain control of Cybertron with Autobot help… hm, it was worth looking into. 

“Not that I have been able to detect, my lord. They have been oppressed for eons, there is little will to resist the status quo,” Shockwave sighed, “Not all is bad though. That Autobot, Optimus shows a lot of promise as long as the council does not get their claws further into him. As do a select few others.”

“Ah, little Optimus Prime, I was wondering,” Megatron grinned, “he seems spirited enough, though his ability to banter is seriously hampered by his priority.” 

“He is incredibly dedicated to his morals, but he does not see that the rest of the Autobot elite does not share them. If perhaps we could show him that his morals are not in fact Autobot morals, then we might get somewhere with him,” Shockwave was curious at the flair of interest he felt in his master's fields as the young Autobot Prime was mentioned, but refrained from asking.

“You have my permission to attempt this, within of course, safety limits. You are still far more important than even a turncoat Prime,” a crude way of putting it perhaps, but still… 

Megatron nodded to himself and smiled at Shockwave. 

“You should return, I think you have been gone long enough.”

“As you wish, my lord. I will use the utmost of discretion in this matter,” Shockwave inclined his helm before changing back to his Longarm form and leaving.

Optimus lay panting on his berth, feeling both sated and ashamed. He should not feel lust for the Decepticon Leader, it was a betrayal of all he stood for.

It was interesting to him that Shockwave had noted and singled out the little Prime that he had met. He should have asked why that one had been chosen to go ahead of the Autobot delegation… ah well! it was not all that important. 

The mech was a pretty little thing, but to be noted by his best spy there had to be more to him. Interesting indeed!

Shockwave returned to the common area granted to the Autobots as Optimus half stumbled out of his quarters. He ignored the mech outwardly, but inwardly smirked when he detected a hint of ozone. Optimus was not known to masterbate or go off with a partner and it was possible that his valve was still sealed. It was little wonder innuendos from Lord Megatron would chase him off, if his master managed to affect him.

Optimus nodded to Longarm as he saw him step in, then proceeded to pick a datapad and curl up to read it, trying to keep his processors busy.


	3. Chapter 3

It would have been easier had the gathering been a short one, but it was not. You could leave it or come later if you left representatives, but Megatron was not about to do that. Once in around 30 vorn and lasting half a vorn or there about, there were species that had a generation shift while at this trade negotiation. On a galactic scale half a vorn was not much though. And participating paid off… though most of the time it was boring, a dance of politics, words and nothing much of substance. 

Megatron participated as he was told would be best by those of his Decepticons better versed in the trading scene and controlled his own dance where it came to pure politics and battles. Because yes, there were battles. Some species relied heavily on ritualized fighting as part of their politics, and Megatron was all too keen on participating in that!

“Yield!” the Dragonian Warlord growled goodnaturedly under the sharp point of his blade and Megatron grinned back, showing fangs. He felt a trickle of energon escape from his split derma plating and the grin became laughter. 

A gruttal word was barked out and he backed off, giving the other battered being a hand up. He did appreciate the Dragonians, sensible and to the point. 

“It was a pleasure,” he nodded regally and was afforded the same gesture in return, as well as another gruttal sentence before the other lumbered off to see his healer/medic/caretaker for his wounds. 

Optimus watched wide-opticked at the battle… or sparring match. Even though the Autobots had declined involvement in the battle side of things for as much as they could at least, they still had to watch as it was part of negotiation.

Right now Optimus wanted to be anywhere but where he was, preferably somewhere alone. Watching Megatron fight was doing things to his chassis that he really did not want to think about or deal with. 

It was rather pleasing to know that the Autobots were not doing all that well at the gathering. They had been outside the galactic center for too long, and their serious alien phobia was working against them getting back in. Like it or not organics made up a large part of the galaxy’s intelligent species. 

Most of their planets were pretty useless to robotics though, and if they had resources that robotics could use they were generally willing to trade. But not if the robotics acted like they would die from touching them…

Megatron wiped off his derma and submitted to Hook’s care while scanning the stands. He smirked at Ultra Magnus stoic face, and then swept his optics over the following Primes. A pretty collection, though only one of them really stood out. He refrained from lingering on the blue, red and silvery white though. No reason to get the little Optimus in trouble!

Optimus fought to keep a neutral face when Megatron looked their way, and to keep his fans from turning on. He huffed out a gust of heated atmosphere when Megatron turned his gaze away from them. The action getting a glance from Longarm who seemed to be keeping closer to him since… since that orn.

‘Very interesting,’ Shockwave thought to himself seated next to Optimus. It was clear to his enhanced sensors that Optimus was aroused. Considering what he had detected upon returning from reporting to Lord Megatron, there was a large chance that Megatron was the cause.

Perhaps he would not have to risk his position by saying anything, not when nudging Optimus in Megatron’s direction had the potential to work just as well. He had no concerns about Megatron’s part, he knew his leader would claim him in any manner necessary.

“Don’t repair all of it,” Megatron murmured at Hook, “we are going to be in the room with the Autobot delegation. I want to rub it in that they have chosen not to respect the culture they are courting.” 

“As you wish, my Lord,” Hook nodded repairing the deeper wounds but leaving the superficial scratches and dents be, self repair or himself could take care of those later. It was not an unexpected request but the given reason was. Warrior races liked to show off scars and battle damage to show how strong and powerful they were. This however was different, Autobots were not a warrior race, despite having some very competent warriors.

“I have seen enough, it is time for us to prepare for the next round of negotiations,” Ultra Magnus stood and swept from the arena with his Primes scrambling to catch up with him.

“They are courting, not being courted, Hook, one makes sacrifices, even if it means losing in the ring. There is no dishonor in that,” Megatron briefly rested a hand on Hook’s shoulder pauldron and then turned away to call together the rest of the delegation. Time to go show off his scars… 

Hook nodded at his Lord's words, packing up his medical kit and following, he needed to be present as well, being part of the delegation.

Optimus frowned down at the table as he sat and waited for the negotiations to begin. His arousal was slowly fading, but that was not what held his attention. They were not doing well, there was interest in what they offered but not in dealing with them… and as much as he disliked even thinking it, Ultra Magnus was wrong. They needed to please and placate the other species here, not hold themselves aloof and try to make it work by their own rules. Ultra Magnus was simply not a good negotiator.

Megatron was having a far more productive negotiation than the Autobots, and a far more level conversation with the participating warrior species. Most of the conversation seemingly involved battles, tactics and comparing scars. But this was a well known phase. Proving one’s worth as a potential ally, it was important to know that you actually knew pain, victory and loss. 

Optimus huffed silently and peeked out at the rest of the room, he was not allowed to speak, his part here already done, a leader simply needed a delegation though so here he remained. It was interesting though, watching how the other races interacted. It made him feel a little uncomfortable, and a little ashamed that he did not know how to achieve the same. Aliens and particularly organics were not allowed on Cybertron.

He watched Megatron comparing battle wounds with a tiny organic creature who spoke fearlessly with the Decepticon warlord, he glanced again at his own leader, talking, negotiating with someone. The creature, a tall willowy race, did not look happy, a mane of spines around its head lifted out in display. It did not look like they would be successful this time either.

It was a productive cycle, all in all. And Megatron had noticed the little Prime watching. Not always him, but that mattered very little in the long run. Watching Decepticons work, watching his own leader botch attempt after attempt. Even going so far as insulting some… probably not on purpose though, however funny it would seem. 

Optimus was glad when the cycle finally ended, his processor felt overloaded, and he needed time to process everything he had seen on top of his own confusing feelings and arousal. Nothing was as he had expected when told where they would be going and what they would be doing there. One thing he now knew was that dealing with other races was hard.


	4. Chapter 4

A very different set of negotiations were playing out a few orn later. Megatron remembered well the first time he and his had attempted to interact with the subset of species that had this set of similar cultures. As near a disaster as anything could be labeled.

“If you please,” he bowed his head slowly, stepping out of the way of the graceful, almost liquid looking shape of a Nerila ambassador. The other flowed past him, into a seat and inclined its whole upper body to the chair he was to take. He sat, just as slowly as he had bowed his head. 

Optimus was fascinated, watching Megatron again. He was so brutal and efficient in battle, he could snark, strut and pose amongst the best from other warrior races, but here he was also proving quite the gentle mech with the far more peaceful races, something even Ultra was struggling with. It seemed no other race held the same values and mindset as Autobots did.

But perhaps that was where they were going wrong? Ultra Magnus was obstinate, refusing to bend to others cultures, they had not even studied the other races that would be here before arriving…

The Nerila were a species that Megatron did not understand on any personal level, but he did not need to understand them personally to be able to work with them. However the Nerila did not understand him either, hive minded and organic. Peaceful to the point that one of them would not lift a hand to defend another. The only thing they would defend was their ‘heart’, which he did not know what was, but he assumed it was whatever functioned as the hub of their hive mentality. 

However, understanding was not needed for cooperation, nor for coexistence in different sectors of space. 

Optimus startled a little at a low humm off to his other side. Turning around he forcibly made himself relax into a calm non threatening posture. The Nerila looked nervous, it kept on glancing at Ultra Magnus then another of its own kind on the other side of the room and back to Optimus. The mannerisms were completely different to how the one Megatron spoke with acted. Optimus realised with a pang that the Decepticons were more trusted by this race than they were.

“If you please,” Optimus bowed slowly to the seat beside him, emulating as best as he could the actions he had observed.

“Your opinion on the Cybertronians would be appreciated by the Nerila heart,” Megatron was more than a little surprised, not used to anyone being so… bold about it. So unpolitical. The Nerila were usually less forward than this. 

“You are aware that we are enemies of old?” a slow, regal nod answered that, “well, my opinion is that most of them are too stiff and too self absorbed to do well here. Ultra Magnus is too proud to admit to his faults… and most of his Primes follow in his pedes steps.”

The Nerila seemed to relax a little as it gracefully sat.

“There are some questions the Nerila heart would appreciate answers to,” Optimus turned his full attention to the Nerila beside him at the statement.

“Of course I will answer to the best of my knowledge, however I am not the leader of the Cybertronian delegation…” Optimus answered doing his best to not show how nervous he was, why was this being talking to him and not Ultra Magnus, or another better suited to ambassadorial work. Not that Cybertron trained anyone for that but…

“Most,” there was no question, not really, this time. But the curiosity was… 

“There is that little Prime I danced with at the opening dance,” Megatron rumbled placidly, “he seems to hold some promise. But I am hardly in a position to judge of course. He would be in trouble should I talk to him too much.”

“Ultra Magnus is very slow to forgive.” 

“This is known to the Nerila heart. Why were you sent on ahead, Optimus Prime of the Cybertronian sector?”

“I…” Optimus frowned, why had he been sent ahead, he had not actually asked just done as told.

“I do not know, but I think it is because I was the least likely to ‘mess things up’ who also was not required directly by Ultra Magnus’ side.”

In one of the abrupt shifts that was rather characteristic for the Nerila hive mind the being in front of him inclined its, head?, top?, he didn’t know, at him and gestured with a limb. 

“The Nerila heart wishes to know if anything on offer is of interest to the Megatron sector?” 

Well, at least that was more to the nature of the meeting. And even if he was curious he did not probe. 

“There is the matter of the asteroid field you have up for mining,” they had deals already, Decepticons were good deep space miners and the Nerila were bad at anything related to mining. They had nice equipment though, that they generously rebuilt and put at the disposal of those that traded mining rights with them. It was a good exchange. 

Optimus shifted a little as the Nerila nodded.

“The Nerila heart wishes to know your position to that of your other Primes,”

Optimus frowned and opened his mouth to answer, but found he had no answer, what was his position? Longarm was head of special Opps, Sentinel was pretty well unofficially second in command… but himself?

“I do not know,” Optimus admitted, feeling rather confused.

The Nerila were pleasant to negotiate with, they were sufficiently different from Decepticons that their needs were low priority for each other. They did not need the same metals, or the same living conditions. When there was something they both needed it was easy for Megatron to negotiate a fifty/fifty deal, considering how generous he was in other areas. And he knew well that the Nerila favored them for that precise reason. There was little fear of either species turning on the other.

No, there was no real understanding of each other, but the understanding of each other’s needs were more than sufficient for a good relationship. 

The Nerila nodded once more. After a long moment it bowed, “The Nerila heart thanks you.” Then it stood and left gliding through the room to the cluster of its own kin.

Optimus was more confused than before, unable to think of an appropriate reply, then unable to give one anyway.

There were other things to do on this orn, others to talk to and some to meet. It was in general a productive venture, though Ultra Magnus’ presence made for some annoyance. Many asked about the status between them. Megatron did not lie as the Autobots apparently had, the war was at a standstill, but no peace treaty had been signed between them nor was any in negotiation or even in a planning stage. 

Optimus was relieved to be able to escape to his quarters at the end of the orn, his processors felt stuffed as they worked overtime to try and make sense of everything. What value did he have? What was his part in the great machine? Was he as Sentinel said, a waste of spare parts? Useless? A charity case? He offlined his vocaliser to hide the sobs that he suddenly could not hold in. What was his place?

Dissimilar Megatron had little to preoccupy him when he returned to the quarters of the Decepticons and thus his processor returned to the little Prime. He was a very attractive little enigma, with a sound mind and a strong will. Not foolishly prideful either, and clearly able to learn… 

How sad that he was an Autobot… 

Optimus did not really feel any better the next orn, but he at least could hide how lost he was feeling. Why did they have to ask those questions? Why couldn’t he answer them? Optimus was afraid to look further for the answers but he knew it was only a matter of time before he actually thought about it. Hopefully the negotiations this orn would not involve him so he could just sit there as he was supposed to.


	5. Chapter 5

Megatron had forgotten this little event. Or rather this, the biggest event save for the ending of the trade summit. The honor dinner, less tedious than the opening dance since everyone could now somewhat freely talk trade and had a handle on most other delegations and important beings. Politically speaking this was a much less charged atmosphere. 

However… those that had participated in that first event would be pulled back together. For the entire five joor affair, complete with the meridian dance. It was a spectacular event that Megatron found very beautiful, the massive space station moon that held the trade summit passed through a nebula and during the meridian dance the heavy blast shutters were pulled away from the observation dome, so that the dances almost danced inside the nebula. 

Little Optimus Prime would be back in his arms… now why did that thought make him smile?

Optimus started mutley at the wall as the mid way event, a dinner and dance a little like the opening dance was announced, but what truly had him almost glitching was that the pairings from the opening dance were to be partnered again. He had not told any of the other Autobots who his partner for the dance had been... this was going to be a complete disaster! 

Everything was made to make everyone at the table feel on the same level. Equal. Megatron always felt somewhat amused at the work that was put into that. Not that he did not agree on this as a sensible precaution. It was just… amusing. 

A Nerila ambassador occupied one of the other seats as did the Dragonian he had fought recently. Their conversation was perhaps odd, but it was a conversation and was easy enough to politely expand it as more beings joined in. The table seated ten and soon enough nine seats were occupied… 

Hm, was he being stood up?

Optimus was nervous as he entered the hall a little late but still before the event was due to properly begin. His idea was to just slip in and hope he was not noticed. He had polished his plating but that was nothing special here, everyone was looking their best.

The table he was led to was already almost full, only one empty seat, right next to Lord Megatron. Of course the partners for the event would be seated beside each other. He tried to be as quiet as he could as he took his seat.

“This Nerila greets the Optimus,” Megatron didn’t express the surprise he felt that the hive mind would think of Optimus Prime as a hub personality. No one knew whom in a delegation the Nerila might give that distinction, but… when had the Nerila even met the Prime? 

“Indeed, greetings little Prime,” he spoke without rancor, without teasing. He did have respect for the young mech, a great deal of respect. 

Well there went going unnoticed. Optimus bowed his helm slowly in respectful greeting to the Nerila.

“Optimus returns your greetings,” He murmured.

“Lord Megatron,” Optimus’ lip twitched as he glanced up at Megatron, because of the seating the size difference was not so noticeable but he still needed to look up.

“The proper response to a Nerila is, ‘the Nerila’ they don’t have individuals as we do,” Megatron offered, loud enough that no one would feel they were whispering or concealing, but low enough to indicate it was a private matter. Tutelage was not seen as a bad thing, and the Nerila did incline its… head thing, at him in thanks. 

“The Optimus is most welcome at this gathering,” the heavy voice belonged to the Dragonian, who was leaning forward with curiosity in its six sets of… eyes, it was eyes on organics, “I did not get the chance to meet you at the negotiations. That Magni of yours kept all of you well away from the fun. Humf…” 

“He was always a buzz kill,” the aside was no less loud and Megatron couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his derma when the Dragonian, Sisnaticka, leaned towards him, “is he really named ‘the Optimus’ or is it that Nerila thing again?” 

“His name is Optimus and his rank is Prime,” he did manage to stomp down the urge to laugh. 

“Optimus apologies to the Nerila for my ignorance,” Optimus decided to clear up that matter before attempting to tackle any of the others but finding Megatron of all mech, of all beings explaining for him…

“I thank you… um, yeah my name is Optimus… and as Megatron said. It’s Magnus, that is a rank. Ultra is Ultra Magnus’ name. He has taken it upon himself to complete all the negotiations for this time rather than delegating,” Optimus hoped his messy reply made some sort of sense, and prayed to Primus and any other deity who may listen, to have the attention moved away from him.

“Really, then why did your Magni even bother bringing an entourage of high ranking… Primes are a high rank, right?” the last was directed at Megatron again and he nodded, amusement all too evident on his face. Trust a Dragonian to be as blunt as a fist to the face. 

“Apology accepted by the Nerila,” another bow and a somewhat annoyed look at the Dragonian, “the Nerila heart wishes to know if the Optimus has had luck in his work here? Even with restrictions placed upon him the Optimus is clearly the only part of the Cybertronian sector able to work well here at the summit.” 

“It could be to do with none of us actually having been trained for ambassadorial work,” Optimus gave a shrug answering the Dragonian.

He turned back to the Nerila and shook his helm slowly, “No, as unfortunate as it seems, but the Nerila are the only people to have approached me. I have not had the opportunity to speak much with others here,” He was highly flattered though that the Nerila would think him capable, maybe that could be his place. Ambassador for Cybertron.

“You need training for that?” the Dragonian didn’t seem much impressed.

“Knowledge certainly,” Megatron put in, smiling somewhat ferally at the massive organic, “that is what he means with training. You always need to know, just as when you pick a weapon you take the one you have trained with.”

“Ah! This is word weapons training, that is better,” the Dragonian nodded wisely and then turned to engage his own table partner. 

“The Nerila heart is saddened to hear so, your sector would be much better off choosing the Optimus as voice. Much more adaptable than the other sector parts,” parts that it did not bother to call ‘the’ anything since the Nerila heart considered them invalid for negotiations. 

“Maybe for the second half of the summit, or failing that the next summit,” Optimus smiled surprisingly relaxed with this company, while strange to him the Nerila were rather engaging conversation partners.

“It would please the Optimus to know how the Nerila are going with their own negotiation?” The smile morphed into a happy grin.

“The Nerila heart is satisfied with the deals that have been struck,” the Nerila inclined its top to Optimus and then to Megatron, “the Megatron has once more proven a profitable trade sector, and a good allie.”

“And likewise has the Nerila heart,” Megatron inclined his helmet in response to the praise. “should opportunities arise outside of the summit the Nerila heart is always welcome to approach the Decepticon sectors for further cooperation. Under the same conditions or with new negotiations as basis.”

Optimus nodded once more but otherwise did not reply it was not really needed. Cybertron it seemed had truly been missing out on a lot by shunning trading arrangements, and Optimus truly could not work out why.

“You trade mining rights with the Decepticons, yes?” it was the Nerila’s dance companion that spoke, another organic, if the Nerila were actually organic and not something entirely else. It too was tall, willowy, but it had more defined body parts and a head that was recognizable if adorned with far too many ‘eyes’. 

“Yes, we primarily trade in metals and labour,” Megatron responded to the question because the Nerila had turned to him. The Nerila heart for the most part did not see sense in hiding such things. But they did find sense in deferring to what their trade partners might want to have of secrecy. 

“Fascinating! We have a similar need as the Nerila heart,” the being paused, Megatron was still not sure what it was really, “but forgive me, I am Nautikeel, a Dramira diplomat,” he bobbed his head, the many eyes winking in the light. Where they even eyes? It was at times hard to tell.

“I must give this knowledge to the lead ambassador, if it pleases you, Megatron, of course?” 

“I would have no problem with such negotiations, our labour force is not exhausted by our work with the Nerila heart, nor would that work suffer from another contract,” he nodded to the Nerila who had seemed to get a bit agitated. 

Optimus settled back listening but not willing to take part in the current conversation, not that he could really add anything. He watched as servers began filing out, platters holding a wide assortment of fuels, drink and solid foods, and some foods that did not look solid or liquid.

Once calmed the Nerila actually joined the discussion and it lasted all through the first course, with the occasional remark from the other dencies at the table. Not from the little Prime though. Listening and eating, watching with big blue optics… and sitting so close. It would have been easy to pull him onto his lap, to offer fuel with his own hands. 

Megatron almost smile at that thought, well aware how it would be taken by the small mech. But he liked spoiling his lovers, and the mech would be such an interesting lover to have. 

Optimus was content to simply listen, learning all he could about the different species, creating a file to put all the bits of information into, it may all prove useful at some point. The meal and company were rather good and Optimus found himself relaxing further. It was all political, this was neutral ground, so he should have nothing to fear from anyone as long as he remained polite and respectful.


	6. Chapter 6

“Are Cybertronians not the same species as Decepticons,” the Dragonian had leaned forward again, multiple eyes on Optimus. 

“We are. We all originated on planet Cybertron. However back in the last golden age a party called the ‘functionalists’ got power, and the Warbuilds and flightframes revolted forming their own faction, forming the Decepticons. The remainder became the Autobots,” Optimus spoke slowly, worrying over every word, he was not sure how much to say, not sure exactly how true all he knew was. He had no desire to insult Megatron after all, he was the one who started the revolt that became what was now known as the Great war.

“Ach! Ancient history, some of you long lived species should learn that forgiveness makes lives easier, fight, yield or claim victory, forgive, forget, live, much easier!” The dragonian waved a massive clawed hand and turned to point at Megatron. 

“You know this, you know the way, so why still war?” 

“There was no loser and no winner, the Autobots declared a stalemate and threw us off our homeworld. You can’t yield or win when that is done,” Megatron shrugged, not bothered by the discussion in the least. And somewhat surprised that the little Prime knew that much of the start of the war. Most Autobots didn’t seem to know that. 

“Ah, then Autobots have faulty logic, why wish an unending war?” the massive organic turned back to Optimus with curiosity.

“It is not that we all want it to continue… I don’t at least. But there is much prejudice, and neither side is willing to simply yield. As far as my research into the matter can tell me, it would require complete reform, an entire overhaul of the ruling system to integrate our two factions again,” Optimus huffed knowing full well that Ultra Magnus would never consider such a measure as an option.

“Politics is what you mean little mech! Politics is not the answer to all,” the dragonian spread his hands and shook his massive head. 

“The galaxy knows the story, perhaps a bit tilted to either side, but it knows. It does not step in, when giants battle even other giants get hurt. At least the Decepticons have moved on, you… no, your world, your Cybertron is like a prickly hog, all balled up and stagnant, feh!” 

“I think that might be a bit unfair,” Megatron stepped in, “they have come out for this summit, perhaps they are ready to move on too. We might not have been so willing had we not been given Pyrovar by the Vok, as well as the license to find and colonize other metal giants.” 

“Not that unfair,” Optimus huffed, looking down into the cube he was drinking, “We would not be here at all if it had not become apparent that we need the trade.”

He huffed again, fields and plating drawn in as tight as he could, looking at it like that, the Autobots were being very insular, stubbornly so, hating and fearing other species when things could so easily be different…

“You are a testament that not all of your kin is entirely locked in,” Megatron shrugged lightly, “I should think that proof enough that change can come.”

Or at least that stagnation had not entirely won. Either way… perhaps Decepticons could one orn visit home, their old home. 

“Unfair or not, it is what it looks to all here,” the Dragonian nodded sharply, but then hesitated, “except for you, yes, the Optimus… a very different one out of Cybertron…” 

Optimus blushed, once again looking away, he wasn’t that special. He might have actually muttered that. He turned his attention back to refueling and hoped that the conversation was finished and they would move onto other topics.

“I wouldn’t say that, Optimus,” Megatron leaned slightly to the side to mutter, not whisper, that to the smaller mech. 

“Special is the one that does something special,” the Dragonian said and nodded sharply, “you stand out among your own, that is special.” 

The table turned to conversing about the food and fuel as the main course was brought in. 

So he had muttered it… He tried to ignore the fluttery feeling in his spark. Why was Megatron being so kind to him? Far kinder than diplomacy required, he was just a Prime, not even a high ranking Prime.

Thank Primus for the matter of fact nature of a Dragonian warlord. At least right that moment, Megatron was well aware that his words might not carry much weight all in all. 

“How is the fuel? I’ve always found that they do their best to cater to everyone's tastes and they do have excellent blenders,” that should be a fairly neutral subject. 

“I have never had fuel like this. We use a standard set of blends,” Optimus looked down at the cube he held, it was good, really good, “I like this though it is very good.”

“I see… we trade for the items we don’t produce ourselves. A varied set of fuel items is something that help the population be happy,” not to mention actually having access to fuel and a surplus of fuel! 

“It is frivolous and a waste when we must be constantly ready for war,” Optimus quoted a little bitterly, why was everything he had ever known suddenly seeming wrong, it just… none of this was making sense.

"I see," Megatron stated, not even attempting to hide his surprise. 

"We have not been actively at war since the Vok granted us Pyrovar. I do not see why Cybertron should benefit from keeping on the barricades?"

“I don’t know. I have always been taught that we must be vigilant for the threat of invasion or attack could come at any time,” Optimus sighed looking out across the room. It had all seemed so real back on Cybertron but here and now, talking with the Slagmaker himself… well, it was turning all he knew upside down. What he could not figure out was why.

"I suppose paranoia is a natural part of such a state," Megatron shrugged lightly, leaving the insult at that, "it is a bit of a lonely existence though."

“I have never known anything else, none of my generation have,” Optimus glanced back at Megatron, actually daring to consider what it might be like to have a different life, he couldn’t, not really, but he did wonder.

"That is sad indeed, and a crime... sparklings should not grow up knowing only fear," Megatron did not like what he was hearing right now. His people had moved on, not that they would not like to see Cybertron again, but they had no desire to reduce it to rubble in an attempt to do so. 

"ah well, I suppose that if it is normalcy for you I should not lament anything."

“...What is Pyrovar like?” Optimus built up the courage to ask after a while shoving the previous topic to the side to process later, dwelling on it now would not do any good, he needed to be alone for that.

“It is a beautiful world, much of it wild still and we hope to keep it that way. Since we now possess several worlds that should not be a problem. We are well able to accommodate the new generations whether they want to live rural or metropolitan,” Megatron had his own places, in the country and in the city, but he rarely spent much time outside the edifice of the ‘palace’ which was the ruling site of the slowly expanding and growing Decepticon empire. 

“Much different from Cybertron, all of the worlds are.” 

Optimus felt a stab of longing and jealousy, it seemed their Decepticon cousins had a much more free life than the apparently very strict and controlled one all Autobots lived. Freedom was the right of all sentient beings. But the Autobots valued freedom, order and community...

“It sounds like you are doing very well for yourselves,”

“It helps that we are not feared anymore,” he couldn’t help the dry statement, and it only helped that the Dragonian warlord glanced at him and barked a laugh. 

“Feared only by those that do not trade with you, we know you are peaceful for a warrior race, ha! My own people are more feared than you, though not for your lack of power,” the organic shook his wings and barked another laugh.

Optimus smiled a little at that, he could actually understand what the Dragonian meant, it was strange. The realisation disorientating, but it also made sense. One had to take care to show the image they want others to know them by.

“We are only dangerous when we have a reason to go to war,” Megatron shrugged, “we were never meant to be warmachines, but protectors. Sadly those we protected forgot that all too easily.”

“Protectors…?” Optimus frowned, he had come across the word before in his research on history before the war, but it was never explained.

“History from before the end of the golden age is heavily restricted… I have rarely if ever heard or read of such before?” Optimus questioned, hoping Megatron would want to and be able to explain.

“I am not surprised, after we were relocated to the hidden jobs, the dirty jobs and the jobs that killed us as fast as possible without someone pulling a trigger, that sort of information was buried. Having us painted as dangerous and uncontrollable gave them right to do what they did in the effort to ‘control’ us,” Megatron shrugged again, offhandedly, “I would be surprised if any of the real history even exists anymore.”

Optimus frowned then swallowed the protests his mind instantly threw up, “I have come across the word Protector a few times, sometimes in relation to the title Prime, but it sounds different than what is means now. Sometimes it felt more like the protectors were a group… It was never more than a paragraph or two and I could never make any sense of it…”

Had the Autobots really done that… were they actually the cause for the ‘great’ war. Was everything he knew, everything he had been taught a big lie? He didn't quite manage to bite back the small lost sound. What was he to believe?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mentions of cannibalism, alien biology and cultural quirks. 
> 
> It is only mentioned, with explanations! (For most parts), but we want to warn just to be safe...

“The Lord High Protector was a single mech and he led the army and the protectors both. The protectors was a force within the army that worked with the civilian enforcers to protect the civilian part of the planet's population along with being the enforcers of the other warbuilds. But that was very, very long ago, before Prime became a menial rank and Magni a rank above it,” Megatron shrugged lightly, “we manage, though it would be nice to have someone more… in need of it to protect again.” 

“Well I would certainly prefer to have you as a protector than an enemy,” Optimus recalled the match he had witnessed between the Dragonian and Megatron. He would not wish to meet Megatron across the battlefield.

“Too bad your Magnus wishes differently,” Megatron shrugged one shoulder and looked back at Sisnaticka, “not to change the subject, but I do have a question… I have noticed that you have not renewed any trade with the Quintessa empire?” 

“Cha, the Quintessan have always been difficult,” the Dragonian shrugged, wings rising with tension, “they have become aggressive of late. The Dragoni empire wishes nothing to do with a galactic scale war. At least not on the side of the many faced!”

Optimus worried for a while if it was treason to think as he did now, but no, it was only sense. Megatron was large and strong, all Decepticons were, the Autobots could not not hope to face them in single battle. Except with the rare exception like Ultra Magnus. It was only sensible to prefer such might on one's own side than fight against them.

The rest of the table quickly got into the discussion about the unrest with the Quintessa Empire and, while he did notice that Optimus remained quiet, Megatron engrossed himself in it. The Quints were dangerous, and from time to time they tried to gobble up more of the space surrounding their already generous holdings. 

“You may want to share this with your Magnus, little Prime,” he said in a quiet aside, though most of his attention was on the Lomax ambassador who was talking of a recent incident involving Quint pirates. At least that was the ‘official’ explanation.

“I will, it is troubling,” Optimus frowned, picking up a gelled bite sized bit of energon. He had heard of energon sweets but never tried any. His optics widened in surprise at the flavour when he put it in his mouth, he had never tried anything like this before!

Quintessons were long time enemies of the Cybertronians, and despite his new discovery he paid close attention to the conversation. Along with the Decepticons all Autobots were taught to fear and hate the Quints.

“Mhm,” taking one of the delicately constructed wax cakes he bit into it carefully. The jelly inside still managed to escape and he cleaned it up with a claw and his glossa. 

“But, with all due respect, if they are testing borders all around… and have only sent one delegation here. Perhaps we should all consider showing a more united front. Nothing big, I could offer to let my warships protect the borders of our bordering allies, like the Nerila heart, if it is welcomed, not all of it, but simply where our borders overlap, so as to protect the vulnerable points. And naturally invite our allies to do the same in return.” 

It would not be the first time such a thing had been done, and the Quints did seem to rely on alliances breaking apart for when they tried their conquests. 

Optimus glanced at Megatron, if they did that then the only weak point would be Autobot space, unless he could get Ultra Magnus to agree for the sake of mutual benefit.

“I will speak with my leader, this is important enough that he might listen,” If Ultra did not… Optimus really did not wish to think about it, not if the Quints were looking to take more territory.

“This Magni of yours,” the Dragonia did not put any tone that could be called kind into saying the title, “relies on the wrong people and discards the one or two that actually could do work. Where he of my kind he would be killed and his eggs eaten.” 

“Autobots have a little less severe structure, Sisnaticka, though I do not know if they eat discarded eggs or not,” he didn’t even know if they bred like Decepticons or not anymore. No decepticon would harm an egg no matter who gave it life, but they did not breed the way Dragonians did, nor did CNA coding work as DNA coding did in the other race. And he did know that the nobility of old had eaten eggs on some occasions. 

Optimus looked horrified, “All eggs are precious, we would never…” Optimus spluttered and gave a hard vent to try and calm down from that shock, some races ate the eggs of their disgraced? He was that upset over it that he did not even feel offended over the insult to Ultra Magnus.

“Later, little Prime,” Megatron reached out and touched a shoulder, just a brush really, and turned to the Dragonian again, “forgive the Prime, I fear that Magnus have done one thing well, and that is keeping his people from learning about others. Culturally and the physical mechanisms that helped form such cultures.”

“I guessed,” the organic shrugged, “Optimus Prime, a Dragonian warlord breeds with a harem of willing breeders. They lay thousands of eggs, perhaps a hundred or so fertilized. The offspring hold the coded memories of the sire, and his line. To break a tainted line that offspring cannot be allowed to survive and breed again. We also breed a lot easier than your kin.”

“That makes sense,” Optimus nodded calming at the explaination, “to us each spark is an individual with only likeness in coding to the creators. The sins of the sire would not pass down or in any way affect our young. I am sorry if I cause offense with my outburst.”

Optimus decided not to comment on the touch, it had been meant as a calming gesture and that was how he had taken it, how his coding had taken it.

“I am aware,” but the Dragonian still nodded in acceptance, “warlike does not mean ignorant, Prime, but perhaps you're Magni should consider that ignorance very easily breeds senseless, groundless war.” 

“Unfortunately there is little I can actually do. I am not considered part of his group of advisers. And while he will let me speak it doesn't mean he will listen,” Optimus knew that well, it was why he had not tried to press the truth after the incident, and their punishment was far kinder than it could have been. Optimus turned his attention back to the platter of goodies, picking out one to try. He really did not wish to speak more on this matter.

“This is distressing to the Nerila heart… if the Cybertron sector will not listen to the Optimus the Nerila heart will not have any dealings with the sector!” the Nerila ambassador spoke quite suddenly, and Megatron was very surprised at the frank statement. 

It was not unexpected though… the Nerila chose a voice they decided as ‘the’ voice of the sector. He was it for the Decepticons, though they would talk to others because of their long association. Having chosen Optimus at seeming random… they could have easily shifted focus, but instead they decided to stand by him? They hardly knew him, so yes, that part was surprising indeed!

Optimus looked up, surprised at that sudden statement.

“It seems that I will have to partition my Magnus for the position of Cybertronian ambassador,” He mused out loud in his surprise. They so very obviously needed a proper ambassador and somehow he managed to achieve some level of accord with other species and even Megatron himself... 

“The Nerila thinks the Optimus should leave the Cybertron sector,” the Nerila waved a set of its appendages in a vague, pushing gesture, “the sense of dismissal of all that is not a part of it is heavy. The Optimus is barely accepted within it, it is not healthy. Nerila that are rejected by the heart dies, to be rejected the Nerila would have to be not Nerila. It has happened only twice in all recorded history. The Optimus is Cybertronian. The Cybertron sector is not.” 

“Where would I go then? I can’t just abandon my people…” Optimus felt lost, torn. He could see sense in what was being said. He had seen for himself how badly the rest of his delegation was responding to all the different races. It felt as if he alone was the only one actually trying to understand their cultures.

“Cybertron is our spark, the physical form of our god Primus. If nothing else then I can not leave that,” Optimus glanced at Megatron, how hard had it been for the Decepticons? What was he supposed to do? What could he do?

“There are Cybertronian sectors not on Cybertron,” the Nerila pointed out quite mercilessly, “colonies that have been rejected by the Cybertron sector, or who has rejected it. There is also the Decepticon sector. The Optimus has options, though the pain is understood.”

“I’m not sure this is the right time or place to bring this up, Nerila Ambassador, forgive the intrusion, but you are distressing Optimus,” and he could not really comfort the mech, however much he would like to. 

Optimus found he was shaking, plating only not rattling due to how tightly it was clamped. He had not realised he was displaying this level of distress. He shot Megatron a small grateful smile. What was so wrong that such a conversation could upset all he knew so thoroughly?

“Perhaps not, the Nerila heart have little options in approaching the Optimus, but the Optimus’ pain is clear to hear for the heart,” the Nerila bowed its top and reached out to, very gently, press the tip of a primary limb to the small Autobot’s shoulder. 

“Pain is to be cured.” 

“Optimus thanks the Nerila heart for their concern. This is a matter I must figure out for myself. My pain will pass,” It would be hard but Optimus knew it would, he could not allow this to define him.

“The Heart hopes it will pass with catharsis, not with termination,” Megatron stiffened, not because of the concern voiced, but because of the derivation from Nerila heart to simply ‘heart’. The central core of the Nerila aliens had spoken only three times in his presence. And that was counting this one… just what did they see in the little Prime? 

He saw someone brave, someone interesting, someone who was being shunned and ignored when he should not be. Someone worthy of more. But the Nerila… sensed more? 

“Perhaps we should all let Optimus have a moment to compose himself,” it was not a suggestion, and, annoyingly enough, the only ones not seemingly surprised at his protectiveness was the Nerilan and the Dragonia ambassadors. 

Optimus was grateful for the respite, only part of him listening as the conversation picked up again on a different topic. The rest of him was focused inwards to the swirling vortex of emotions and confused thoughts. What was right? What was wrong? what should he do about it, could he do anything? Where did he belong? What did these beings see in him?


	8. Chapter 8

If Ultra Magnus was so terrible, then it would not be fair for him to just leave. What of the rest of the population? He could not leave them to suffer.

But that still begged the question what to do? and there was the Quints to think about. Without assistance even their full amarda (which Ultra Magnus would never allow, they always had to have a part of it watching Decepticon borders.) would be little deterrent to those creatures, not without the evidence that others would support them.

Optimus frowned far more focused and spark settling. What would it take to convince their galactic neighbors to show a sense of solidarity, to patch or at least conceal the weak link the Autobots appeared to be?

“Don’t look so downcast, little Prime, things are not as bad as they appear,” Megatron still carefully kept his voice loud enough that others could easily overhear. But he didn’t like seeing the mech so… sad. 

“Most will prefer to somehow show a united front no matter how much your Magnus alienates them. Convince him to accept it, and little will happen,” it was in essence true. But it was not a solution. 

“What was it like for you? Having to fight those you were intended to protect. Being forced to leave all you had ever known behind?” Optimus felt vulnerable but dared to ask, looking up to meet Megatron’s red gaze, “Does it ever get easier?”

“The living Pit… painful, and yes, it does get easier, slowly, but surely,” Megatron shrugged lightly, not to make light of the topic, but to attempt to put the Prime at ease with his asking. 

“There are many things to consider in that, my frame kin is better now that we are not in open conflict with civilian kin. We will never stop longing for Cybertron, no Cybertronian ever does. You can ask some of the ones that live on other former colony worlds. I believe there are some here from Cadmin and Velocitron, and others too if I am not mistaken.” 

“I hope that this gets resolved without further conflict. Unfortunately I do not believe that will happen with Ultra Magnus as the Autobot leader. I don’t need to ask, I know for myself, I onlined on Hydron IV, my creators managed to send me to Cybertron in the hope I would find better opportunities. It felt like coming home when I first arrived on Cybertron,” Optimus admitted, frowning a little as he wondered how hard it would be to leave Cybertron, be forced to leave… he could not imagine it, everything in him just rebelling at the idea.

"I see, well, in that case you know very well what I mean. The longing never disappears, though Pyrovar is a lovely world. We are content enough, but being able to visit home would be..." he shrugged slightly, "better."

“I understand,” Optimus gave a brief smile, he did, a lot more than just what it was like to long for Cybertron, “You are very little like what I have been taught. I believe now that the main fight will be in getting others to see the truth.”

If others knew what the Decepticons truly were, what they were actually like… would it actually change anything?

"They will not want to," Megatron simply shrugged, though he was quite amused at the way the small Prime spoke. 

"Having a... hmm, buggy mech is what keeps the council and your Magnus in control. They and those that have power with them have no interest in losing their power. But thank you."

Optimus tilted his helm back looking up at the nebula they would be dancing under soon, he still hurt, he still could not figure out what his place was, but he also felt better in a way as if he had been freed, “What do you think it would take for peace?”

"I do not know anymore, little Prime, but certainly that your Magnus relinquishes his power. And with him your council too..." Megatron rumbled a laugh and shook his head, "It will not happen." 

Optimus huffed unhappily, “Complete reform is what is needed and reeducation for the entire population…”

Primus! was it really that bad?

“Well, we tried that and the result was a war. I don’t think you are quite ready for that,” Megatron rumbled, but it wasn’t really with amusement.

“The general populace needs to see the truth…” Optimus hummed considering as idea, it would require time, patience and a lot of careful work but… “Perhaps you could take the role of defenders from afar and stream the intent directly to the main population? With the Quints on the move, there might be a way you could use that?”

As long as he was not considering his own position Optimus found he was calm enough. He would find a place to belong eventually.

“And how would we manage to get such an intent to the public, little Prime. No, it is better to keep things as they are for now. Your Magnus would make sure to poison any effort we made, and if not him, then your council,” Megatron rumbled tiredly. 

“I commend you for trying though, but be aware that this is something that have been thought about for a long time. We have time, no one lives forever.”

Optimus huffed but he nodded his understanding, he knew there had to be a way, but he would let the subject drop, he was feeling marginally better now.

The last course was removed and slowly people stood to let the tables sink back into the floors and let servants take away the chairs. It was about time for the dance to begin. Megatron offered the smaller mech a hand, and a small smile. 

“There is nothing wrong with thinking about it, little one, perhaps eventually you would be able to affect change. Just don’t get killed while attempting it.”

Optimus took the hand without hesitation this time, “I do wish to see peace happen, to live it. I will be careful,” He vowed meeting Megatron’s optics.

“Good,” Megatron wasn’t too sure that the mech would do anything once home. But... benefit of the doubt. 

He pulled the mech to him, and smiled down at him. 

“If you get dizzy easily, don’t look down when the music starts.” 

“I don’t, but thank you for the warning,” Optimus settled into the hold far more relaxed and calm than last time they danced.

“Mm, none fliers tend to find the little trick disconcerting. I find it nice, dancing in the stars,” Megatron shrugged lightly, “though the cost has got to be insane.” 

“If there was ground, far below I might not like it but I have always liked space,” Optimus chuckled, he could easily understand others not liking it.

“I see,” Megatron rumbled, wondering how often the little mech got to see space, locked up on Cybertron as he was. Probably much less than he would like…

Optimus enjoyed it, dancing amongst the stars, it was beautiful…

It seemed that words had ceased being of use and Megatron let them stay there. Guiding them across the floor in the endless dance… and letting go when the time came for that. 

He bid the mech good recharge with a kiss to the cheek planting, a kiss he knew he should not have given. But what harm was there in it? Optimus was a pleasant mech… it was sad that he could be nothing more.

Optimus smiled, blushing at the kiss, but he had managed to return the sentiments with complete honesty. Returning to the Autobots quarters though brought everything crashing down. Ultra Magnus was waiting for him and he did not look happy.


	9. Chapter 9

Well… that had been interesting indeed. Megatron had a long conversation with Strika after the dance, not specifically about the little Prime as such, though she did dig. He could hardly blame her, it was rare that he showed any personal attention to anyone. Or got heated when thinking about someone specific. 

However, their conversation was mostly about the rather interesting attitude that other species seemed to have towards the Autobots. Even old allies… 

It was not a particularly fond or kind one.

* * *

Optimus was not happy when Ultra Magnus finished chewing him out for not having refused and demanded to be partnered with a more suitable being. The snide comments from Sentinel not helping one bit either. Only Longarm seemed to be keeping out of it, staying in the back of the room and watching.

Optimus huffed and buried his helm under his arms, he had been happy enough at the end of the dance, had been actually enjoying himself. Yes Megatron had been making him think, but no that didn't mean he wished to defect, he was an Autobot at spark… or more like a civilian, one of the ones Megatron and the protectors were coded to protect… He huffed again, too unsettled to even consider initiating a forced recharge cycle.

“Do you know what would have happened if you had demanded another dance partner?” Shockwave was appalled at the fact that the Magnus didn’t seem to know, or care. Of course it had been a long time since the mech had attended one of these events… but the amount of gall! 

Optimus lifted his helm and glared, not happy that Longarm had decided to invade his room, “No, not that I care much either. I, unlike some mech, can be diplomatic and deal with who I am put with.”

He huffed again but did not snarl at him to get out, he was the only one of their delegation he did not have a problem with at this time.

“We would have been kicked out of any and all negotiations, ‘contempt for the spirit of the gathering’,” Shockwave didn’t let the glaring deter him and he sat down on the edge of Optimus’ berth. 

“And we would have been escorted off station… and not invited back for a very, very long time. It’s my job to know these things, even if the Magnus don’t always listen to me. You did the right thing… regardless of your reasons for doing it.”

“Would you support my petition to be ambassador then? I find a number of the beings here like me even if they barely tolerate Ultra Magnus,” Optimus asked relaxing somewhat, it was scary news but mitigated by knowing he had acted right. And now hopefully he had an allie amongst his fellow Autobots.

“I would, but I don’t think you should make it while we are here… Ultra is not a happy mech and Sentinel has his audio,” Shockwave made no move to hide his distaste for the other Prime, “your friend is not always a very kind mech.” 

“I was planning on waiting until we were back on Cybertron. I would not be so foolish as to ask directly after... that,” Optimus clenched his jaw at the thought of what had happened just before.

“Make the petition to the council, not to Magnus…” Shockwave hesitated, “but don’t expect much of a result. I don’t think most are interested in having any sort of diplomacy. I honestly do not understand why not, but everything about this mission has seemed off from the start,” he shrugged uneasily.

Optimus frowned confused, “What do you mean by that?” He asked a little uneasily, a little afraid of what the answer might be.

“...” Shockwave hesitated artfully, not that he was about to tell a lie, and gave the other Prime a long hard look. 

“We came with nothing to offer in trade,” the shrug was stiff, “nothing at all.” 

“Then this has simply been a farce? What was the point?” Distress was catching up with Optimus again, Megatron appeared to be right… But what should he do, he could not simply ignore the truth now that he knew.

“I don’t know to be honest. I do know that the traditional trading commodities have been energy, work forces and special expertise. Some limited trade in resources… mostly from colonies. Nothing has been put on offer, none of the very few conversations Ultra has been in have been about trades… I even heard that the Quintessan Empire is on the move again and our Magnus simply ignored it. Even though the warning came from the Junkinons, and they have been allies of Cybertron as far back as records are reliable!” 

“I have heard that the Quintessons are on the move, it was discussed at length at the table I was on. The other galactic beings are all ready to stand strong and support each other. Autobot space is the weak link in the equation…” It was a lot to take in, would Ultra Magnus really leave them vulnerable simply because of his pride, or whatever it was?

“The Quintessans are a true threat, no one can deny their occasional lust for conquest and subjugation of others. I doubt that there is much we can do to protect ourselves if Ultra refuses to cooperate with other species. But I am Intelligence, I know almost all, I’m however no confidant of the council or the Magnus,” Shockwave shrugged.

“I know how this will sound… but the Decepticons are truly our best chance for a defence against the Quintessons. I did speak a little with Lord Megatron and he confessed wanting to protect Cybertron even while it is in our care,” Optimus frowned trying to shove everything back, to keep cool and collected, he wasn’t a new spark for Allsparks sake!

Oh, he did, did he? Shockwave was not surprised, it was the only reason he could function as he did among the Autobots. Nominally he was protecting civilians. It was a core coding thing, which the council had never understood, or at least not understood fully. 

“It might well be prudent to accept such help, but I hardly see it happening, do you?” the sarcasm was not directed at the younger mech. 

“If it was up to me I would accept it in a spark beat. but no, neither I nor Megatron see Ultra readily accepting such an offer… A pity since the Decepticons are truly adapted to... defence and warfare,” Optimus almost used the work protection… but at the last moment had decided against it.

“Protection, Prime, you can say it, I’ve had full access to the old files and I know what the Decepticons were. It is sad they got so twisted, but even so they are our best line of defence, them and any other beings who are willing to stand between us and the Quintessan Empire. I could wish… but yes, wishes do not give much hope of success,” he shrugged, a bitter smile on Longarm’s derma. 

“In lieu of that, we must do what we can to prepare the elite to go against Quintessan forces. Not that I think we can do much against them, but we can try.” 

Optimus twitched a half smile of wry amusement, not that he truly felt amused, “If it comes right down to it, I think I would prefer a Decepticon ruled Cybertron then Quintesson rule.”

He did not feel as guilty saying that than he would have if forced to before having met Megatron, not that that situation would have ever happened.

“I think that is a surprisingly healthy attitude,” Shockwave sat down, weary to the very support struts. 

“Though I do not think that handing Cybertron over to the Decepticons is the best solution, for us or them in the long run.”

“I didn’t say I thought it would be a good idea, simply the more preferable option of the two,” Optimus shrugged and ran a hand wearily down his face, no matter what way one looked at it their situation was not good.


	10. Chapter 10

“On that we agree,” Shockwave nodded, “I have to confess… I am a bit curious, what do you think of Megatron? I don’t think there exists any texts about him that are not slanted to make him the perfect villain… Is he, well, that?”

“This, any of this conversation is to be kept strictly between us…” Optimus cautioned pausing long enough to see a small nod of understanding.

“It’s not true, he can actually be quite the gentle mech. He simply wants what is best for his people even if that means keeping them apart from, or even fighting those they are deep coded to protect. He is an honourable mech forced into a tough situation,” Optimus struggled to find a neutral way to say what he thought, unsure if saying anything at all was a smart move, he didn’t know Longarm very well after all.

“Much what I expected,” Shockwave nodded and huffed, on a personal level he did really believe it would be better of the Decepticons not to return to Cybertron. But he did not believe it better for his people to give up protecting it. Never visiting it… 

“It seemed too easy… much too easy.” 

“It did, it does,” Optimus agreed, “It leaves me uncertain of what to do, I will never defect… but knowing at least some of the other side? If violence broke out again, I am unsure if I would be able to fight the Decepticons…”

It cost Optimus dearly to say that, but he felt so much better, his spark lighter. It was the bare shameful truth. 

“I would still defend the innocent… But.” He shook his helm unable to explain better.

“But there are more innocent in this war than there are guilty,” Shockwave nodded and huffed tiredly. That was the fact that had almost broken the Decepticons as a whole… their coding could accept the guilty being hunted and hurt, they had worked with law enforcement. But the innocents? No… never that! 

Optimus nodded absently, “Yeah, perhaps misguided and misinformed but innocent.”

A shiver ran through his frame as he realised that he could be counted amongst those innocents, not having known the beginning of the war, only knowing what he had been taught by the council…

“Information is a weapon one should not discount,” Shockwave’s Longarm mouth stretched in a smile, a smile that still felt wrong and stiff no matter how long he spent as the compact Autobot Prime. 

“I should know, I use it routinely at the behest of council and Magnus,” he allowed some bitterness in. 

Optimus swallowed and nodded, suddenly hyper aware of who he was talking to and the things he had said, “Yeah it can be a very dangerous weapon.”

“Don’t worry, Optimus, I am not going to tell on you,” Shockwave softened his tone, “I didn’t come to get dirt on you, but rather to tell you that you are not alone. Things are strained…”

“Everything is all so confusing now. I will never regret knowing but… What do you mean strained?” Optimus frowned focusing on that.

“You know what my work is, right? Or at least the nice, polished official version,” Shockwave asked curiously. 

“Special Ops and communication,” Optimus looked away still not convinced he could fully trust Longarm with all he had said. It was treason on some level after all.

“Special Ops, yes, which means I have to keep tabs on everyone in politics… Including the Magnus. I’ve seen more than my share of stupidity and short sightedness. I’ve seen good too… this? I thought going here was a good idea, but it's not, it's really not a good idea…”

“Oh… No I suppose it is not… so it would be pointless, requesting to be ambassador, since this is merely a farce,” Optimus was more lost and unsure than ever, just what was he supposed to do? Stand around and look pretty?

“No, I think it would be a good idea to try for it, but… I am honestly not sure if anything good would come of it, at all,” Shockwave hunched tiredly, “it all seems pointless to me. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Optimus reached out and placed a hand on Longarm’s shoulder, “We will figure something out, something has to give. We just have to be ready and do what is necessary when it does.” It was as much for himself he said that and it did help even just a little.

“...” Shockwave looked at his stubby disguise fingers and nodded slowly, “I just fear what actions might be needed, and how they will be viewed. Cybertron is dying, Optimus, slowly and struggling all the way. This farce is yet another stabwound.”

“Dying? How can Cybertron be dying?” Optimus paused at that, concern and confusion and a hint of fear warring within him, it couldn’t be true, their home world could not die. Could it?

“Not the planet, Optimus, the people. We are stagnating, nothing new is being developed… if you look at mechs on the street. I haven’t seen anyone look truly happy in ages!” Shockwave shrugged, even more tiredly, optics dim. 

“All that lingers is mistrust and fear. We’re living on a dying world.” 

Oh. “After the ‘incident’ I haven’t been allowed outside of the academy even on Cybertron. This occasion of course being an exception,” Optimus was back to frowning again, was it true? His spark constricted at the idea that it might be.

“I wish I could say you were missing out,” Shockwave shrugged tiredly, “but it’s bleak. The council and the Magnus… I don’t know what they are planning, but I was hoping this would help! That they wanted to reopen trade and labour exchanges. But it seems I was mistaken…”

“But that just brings us back to the question: What is the point of this, of us coming here, then?” Optimus huffed feeling fed up and confused, out of place and strangely missing Megatron’s company.

“That’s what has me worried, Optimus, I don’t know… and when the Spec Ops do not know…” he trailed off, lifting his head to meet the wide blue optics. Shockwave really did not know, and it really, truly worried him deeply… 

Optimus slumped and bit his lower lip worrying it, “I guess we can only keep our optics open and share what we find with those we can trust…” Normally he would not say he would trust Longarm that much but after their conversation and his earlier conversation with Megatron, Optimus recognised that he needed allies and Sentinel was not an advisable option, no matter how long they had been friends previously.

“I would be honored if you would trust me, at least for this, Optimus Prime,” Shockwave nodded, well aware that only a few would ever trust a spec ops mech. Magnus did, for the most part, but it was hard to use when the council decided most of things that had any actual impact on Cybertron itself. 

“It is not like we have anyone else we can tell right now, I would not trust Sentinel with any of this, he would not understand…” That was not to say he hadn’t had doubts about telling anything to Longarm, right now time would tell, but it would not benefit him if he did. 

“I will hope I can rise in that estimation. Spec Ops have few friends outside of the department, but I would like to think I am trustworthy beyond the job I hold,” both jobs actually… but this was not the time to tell the little Prime any of that!

“Well I don’t really know you all that well, so time will tell. So far I am giving you the benefit of the doubt,” Optimus chose not to hide how he felt, it was better to let Longarm know where he stood, “I would like to get to know you though.”

“I can hardly fault you for your caution, and again I am honored,” Shockwave smiled, wondering if the mech would say the same when he knew who he was really talking to. 

Optimus returned the smile, things were still just as jumbled and confusing, scary even but now he felt less alone amongst his fellow Autobots.


	11. Chapter 11

Optimus was bored. He hated being locked out of the second half of the negotiations, there was little to do in his assigned quarters and he was not allowed out without direct permission from Ultra Magnus. It was frustrating and lonely. He was simply glad that he could force recharge and that over recharging had no ill effects.

* * *

The little Prime disappearing did not go unnoticed by anyone. Megatron wondered what Ultra had expected would happen, but as he could hardly ask he had to content himself with Shockwave’s brief messages. 

Politically and diplomatically speaking the Autobots were once again shooting themselves in the proverbial pede… But Megatron was more concerned for the Prime than for the political stupidity of his leaders.

“The Nerila wishes for the Optimus to speak,” if a Nerila could sound cold this one did, nor did it speak in the normal soft tone of its kind. The demand was high, angry and cold as the space between stars in tone. It carried above the hum of the gathering with ease.

“Optimus Prime is not the speaker for my delegation. Anything you have to say to the Autobot delegation will be said to me and no other,” Ultra Magnus drew himself to his full height his tone only holding hints of anger. Those that knew him though knew what that meant, any mention of Optimus though was enough to set him off since the mid way event.

“The Nerila wishes to speak with the Optimus. The Nerila have no wish for a lesser voice to be heard,” the cold, if possible, got more pronounced, a chill not heard from the hive of Nerila in any remembered time. Several other beings stepped back, various surprised and even fearful reactions observable in both expressions and body language. 

Whatever the reason for the Nerila to choose the little Prime as Autobot primary they were not going to back down. Or let themselves be dictated, as they never had. 

“What reason do you have for wishing so? Optimus is currently isolated for unapproved contact with an enemy of the Autobot Empire,” Ultra ignored the reactions of those around him as he continued to stare down the other being. Just how many beings had Optimus spoken with? What had they told him?

“The reasoning of the Nerila Heart is not for discussion with lesser voices,” and the tone said that this should, and would have, been evident to said ‘lesser voice’ already. 

“The Nerila demands the Optimus as voice!” 

“Lesser? Optimus Prime, all my Primes are lesser rank than I. There are no Greater beings than I amongst my Autobots. You will tell me what your business with my Prime is then I shall decide if I shall allow you to speak with him. If you continue to refuse our business is concluded,” The only thing stopping Ultra Magnus from reaching for his hammer is that he could already feel the disapproval from it, he did not care at this point that taking it out would be considered an act of aggression. He already had what he needed, but unfortunately he had to remain for the rest of the negotiations.

Silence enveloped the room as the rest of the Nerila delegation silently arrived to stand behind their current speaker. Nothing seemed to happen, and yet everyone in the room felt… something, something that pressed, relentless, searching almost painful even if it was not directed at them. And the willowy beings that usually seemed so frail suddenly seemed to be a threat. 

“The Nerila server their contact with the world of Cybertron. Only one voice will be heard by the Heart, until then silence will reign.” 

Ultra Magnus felt a shiver of unease, he had not realized just how strong the mental capabilities of the Nerila were. But he held firm preventing himself from taking the step back that his chassis almost seemed determined to take.

“Very well, if that is your choice,” Ultra turned on his heel and left, his Primes hurrying to catch up with his swift strides. He intended to have a word with Optimus.

As soon as the Magnus and his mechs left the Nerila delegation melted back into their normal manner. However not one of them spoke of it to acknowledge questions of what had happened. It was was if their words had been literal, Cybertron had ceased to exist for them…

Optimus endured the lecture and questions from Ultra Magnus with growing discontent in his spark. But he was also surprised and interested in what the Nerila wanted to speak with him about.

When the Magnus left again Optimus started to put together his idle plans for escaping his room undetected by the other Autobots. He might have to employ Longarm’s help though, he hoped not but planned for it anyway.

Shockwave was surprised at the ping to his comm not more than half a joor since Ultra’s minor meltdown. Progress had been made with the young Prime but what the mech might want… hm.

“Optimus?” he kept his voice low, looking around to be sure no one was near him in the broad hall.

“Can we talk?” Optimus asked softly, he really wanted to get out but the main problem was the risk of running into Ultra or any other of their delegation, or have them look in on him when he was not there. The doors themselves could not truly be locked against those intended to use the rooms.

“Of course, want me to come by or just keep it to comm?” Shockwave was no less surprised by that, but counted it as a bit of good progress.

“Just comm’s. I wanted to ask if there was any way I would be able to get out. Just small amounts of time, a joor or even half a joor. The locks can’t keep me but I can’t risk being caught,” Optimus said in a rush, trying to be quick but concise and still in the same low tones.

“...” Well…

“I can arrange to have everyone distracted for a few joor,” he allowed, slowly but not reluctantly.

“Right now? I don’t want you to risk getting caught helping me,” Optimus needed to get out, but his need was not worth Longarm being punished too.

“If you can give me half a joor, yes,” it would not be all that hard. Ultra Magnus was angry and he liked to get a good drink when he was angry. High grade could easily be laced with something that would muddle him without leaving traces or even make him suspicious. Sentinel would guzzle because no one would stop him, and the rest were so disturbed by everything they’d either do as Sentinel or hide in their own rooms. 

“I can give you that time, yes. Just be careful… and thank you,” Optimus felt a little ashamed, but really it was not fair him being forced to remain in his room, to him the ‘deed’ and the punishment did not line up.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be in trouble for anything,” Shockwave was amused but also rather… enamoured, all things considered. Optimus had such a big spark, it could get him in trouble, but it did not have to be the bad kind of trouble!

“Wait half a joor and a breem, then go. Unless I tell you not to, okay?”

“Ok,” Optimus agreed, setting an internal timer and settling in to wait.

He could have told him to go sooner, but Shockwave was pleased enough to have most offline by the half mark, and the rest closed in their rooms. Kind of pathetic… considering these mechs were the protectors of Cybertron now.


	12. Chapter 12

Optimus cautiously crept out of his room, ensuring the door was closed and locked behind him, he only relaxed once he was out in the corridors heading towards the negotiation rooms hoping to come across a being he knew, just to talk with.

“Little one!” Sisnaticka stopped in the middle of the hall, causing a bit of confusion as traffic had to go around his massive form. 

“Warlord, Sisnaticka,” Optimus smiled, already feeling happier for seeing a familiar being. He moved between various beings going either way down the hall to the larger beings side.

“It is a pleasure to see you again,” Optimus gestured to the direction the Dragonian had been going indicating they should walk together.

“We did not expect to see you again. That Magni of yours had quite a clash with the Nerila, he seemed very adamant that you not be heard by none Cybertronians,” Sisnaticka started walking again, albite much slower than before. 

Optimus groaned, “So that is what that had been about. My Magnus had decided to ignore my right to privacy, and had barged in earlier, to interrogate me on whom I had spoken with and what exactly had been spoken about.”

“Just how bad was the clash? I thought the Nerila were a peaceful race. What would they even clash about?” Optimus asked, frowning, not really expecting Sisnaticka to have all the answers.

“For the Nerila it was tantamount to a war declaration, though they do not do that,” Sisnaticka shrugged his massive shoulders, dismissing the peaceful nature he did not understand but was willing to accept. 

“Cybertron has been declared voiceless.” 

“Voiceless? What do they mean by that?” Optimus asked worried, just what had Ultra managed to frag up this time?

“It does not exist anymore. Not to the Nerila, not till their desired voice speaks for the planet. It… is the same as it told you about a rejected Nerila entity, Cybertron has been declared un-Nerila,” the draconian rumbled with some amusement. He did not much like that Magni, and hm…

“What most would like to know is what it is with you that makes the very Heart so adamant that it would condone writing off an entire people. To the knowledge of the archive this declaration has only happened when someone threatened the Nerila, allowing them to kill to protect themselves. This… does not fit.” 

Not even the Quintessans were declared none entities.

‘The Optimus is Cybertronian. The Cybertron sector is not.’ Optimus hummed as he thought, something the Nerila had said to him coming to mind. It really was an odd declaration.

“I do not know, but perhaps I can ask the Nerila? I mean they will still speak with me from the sounds of things, just not any other Autobot. I think I will let their declaration of non-existence stand for now. If the Heart reconsiders before anything changes it could create more problems,” Optimus finally replied, his words carrying conviction.

“You are their desired voice, I have no doubt that they will talk to you. What that means though…” again massive shoulders were shrugged, “I agree though, with them, your Magni was hatched from a bad egg and bad breeding line,” thick fangs were bared in a sneer, “he should not have been allowed to hatch.”

“Perhaps,” Optimus allowed, “Still it is odd that they have picked me out, at first it was just strange, but now it feels to carry more weight to it. Like they know something that even I don’t know about myself. Finding out what that is will be very important. I don’t... I can’t... it just. I have no idea why me, what makes me so different despite having all the same training and the same coding patches as all other Autobots?”

“As I understand you it is the spark that matters. It is your heart, soul… center? Perhaps it is that your spark is different, and perhaps the Heart of the Nerila knows or feels that difference,” the dragonian rumbled heavily, “it is after all energy too. At least that is what is speculated.” 

“Soul would be the closest equivalent for organic beings to understand. Our fuel pump is the functional equivalent of a heart as I understand it,” Optimus admitted, feeling a little sheepish about knowing that, by far most Autobots would have no clue after all.

“Energy beings, that does make a measure of sense for them being hive minded then. They would need a central force to help them maintain form so they don’t just dissipate. Their very existence would be directly linked to their Heart then,” Optimus tilted his helm considering limitations but also potential and implications of such beings, “Interesting theory.”

“A Cybertronian Spark is energy, contained by and in turn powering our frames. Our Sparks would dissipate outside our frames and likewise our frames would just be drones without our Sparks.”

“The Heart is thought to be energy, the entities of the Nerila Hive is as physical as we are,” Sisnaticka laughed, a rough bark of sound, “but that is only theory. No one has ever seen the Heart, I am not even sure if the Nerila entities see it. And I have not asked. They are… very different from my people, we do not understand them. But that is the beauty of this, is it not? To meet, to trade, to learn, to interact… to leave enriched.” 

“Matter is fundamentally comprised of energy too. What I meant was that I cannot figure out if the Nerila entities are organic or something else,” Optimus shrugged.

“I must agree with you though, it is a beautiful thing to learn of others in peace rather than for war,” Optimus turned pensive for a moment, “I am glad that I met Warlord Megatron here rather than on a battlefield, he is little like what we are taught he is.”

“Megatron is an honorable warrior, capable and wise. I have met him no few times now… my species is long lived, when we don’t meet our end in battle you understand?” Sisnaticka tilted one head to slant a look at the smaller mech. He couldn’t scent or read the mech like he would have been able to with most organics but… Still. there was some interest there, he was certain of it. 

“One thing you learn from a long life, is to not form opinions till you have scented the matter yourself. Words of others can be trusted, but not as the only base for important opinions. There is much lost with blind trust, as much as in blind distrust.” 

Optimus nodded having expected something of the like from the Dragonian, “I can see the sense in that, and also see where my fellow Autobots are failing. I have a few joor at most of freedom, if Longarm can be trusted. Would you have any advice on how to make best use of that time?”

“Hmm, perhaps seek knowledge… I might suggest that you find a Nerila and ask them questions. Just be aware that point blank rarely works with them. I don’t think they will ignore you though…” since they held him apart from the rest of the Cybertronians. Whatever their reasoning was… 

“I think point blank might be able to work if one asks the right questions,” Optimus shrugged, “But yes I think that will be the best use of my time. I had best start looking then. I have enjoyed our conversation and hope to speak again before the gathering is over.”

“Well,” Sisnaticka’s tone dropped into something so dry it might have crumbled to dust, “if your Magni is foolish enough to keep insulting everyone we might not. But then again, he may see a sort of reason and will let you out for the last dance. However since you cannot arguably switch partner despite his most ardent wishes…” massive shoulders shrugged once more. 

“Regardless I shall wish you luck in your battles, and a long life.” 

“Only getting kicked out of the gathering will prevent me from participating in the last dance. Megatron is an excellent dance partner. May your weapons remain sharp,” Optimus waved farewell accepting the, what sounded like a, traditional farewell and offering one he had read in return.

An excellent dance partner, huh? Sisnaticka chuckled, turning away with a wave of one large hand. Yes well, all beings had certain qualities they liked. Why not admire balance and grace, it was part of what made anyone a good warrior.


	13. Chapter 13

Optimus picked a direction at random, wandering around, looking for any being he recognised.

Hearing the sound of fighting he made his way to the combat room. Inside two races he did not know anything about circled and clashed. The seating was filled as was usual. Scanning the crowd he searched for any familiar faces smiling as he spotted Megatron.

At this time of the gathering most of the sparring matches were for pleasure only. His Decepticons enjoyed both watching and participating in it and Megatron saw no reason not to indulge. 

It was only once Optimus had made his way through the crowd to the area where Megatron was seated did he realise that there was no seats available. Shrinking back Optimus hoped he had not been spotted already and that he could either find the Nerila or catch Megatron when they left.

A lull in the fighting had Megatron turn to comment on Motormaster’s critic of a particular move, and his optics caught red and blue plating. 

He rose and waved off his surprised conversation partner.

“Little Prime, I was told you had been…” he paused not sure what word to use for the imprisonment.

“I slipped the leash. I hope I am right in trusting Longarm to help me. I was going stir crazy though,” Optimus shrugged stepping forwards into full view again. Apparently his prayers had gone unanswered. Oh well he did want to talk with Megatron, even if he had no clue what to say, and he might have only this one time. If he was caught he could be certain that he would not get any chance to spend the last dance with Megatron, something he was looking forwards to.

“So some of you Primes possess a devious side, hmm? Do you want to watch the games or is something else more attractive?” Megatron was careful to make his tease light, and his invitation the same.

“I am fine with watching, but I have noticed there is no spare seats,” Optimus gestured around them, where indeed the only seat currently empty was the one Megatron had vacated when he stood.

“And yes, I think Longarm is trying to recruit trustable mech, so he has to prove himself trustworthy first,” Optimus shrugged at that it made sense and he would not do anything that went against his morals.

“If you do not mind it you can sit with me? I don't think you would be able to see anything in a seat of your own,” Megatron offered off hand.

“Not in this section no,” Optimus agreed, “Alright, I will sit with you.”

Optimus held out a hand in permission, allowance for Megatron to pick him up. He did trust Megatron enough to not take advantage.

“Thank you,” Megatron was as chaste as it was possible to be when picking up and carrying someone. 

“If you will excuse me for a moment though,” once they were settled he turned his attention back to a pretty shell shocked looking Motormaster and finished the conversation, a bit haltingly on his subordinate’s part, about the previous match. When that was done two new contestants had arrived. A Dragonian, not one Megatron knew personally, and a large semi organic that he was not sure of the species of. 

“At this time of the gathering the Arenas are open for training and enjoyment, and only a few matches are for negotiations purposes.” 

Optimus hummed in acceptance, simply making himself comfortable while still being aware that he was sitting on Megatron’s lap and as such aware where he touched.

“I see, I am not surprised you would be here then, being warriors it would be nice having this opportunity to train with other beings rather than just amongst yourselves.”

“Mm, it is as much to learn. Almost every species have their own forms of combat, their own weapons. Our kind is one of the few that can conceivably adapt forms to use all of them. It is not unusual to negotiate personal contracts for study with a weapons master of one ambassador or another, long or short term. Some agree, some say no,” Megatron shrugged one massive shoulder and clicked his claws on the arm rest. 

“Some study with us too, even some of the very small ones. It is an interesting challenge.”

“On both sides I can imagine. It is a good setup, and promotes a kinship and better understanding. Whatever Ultra’s reasons for coming here I am glad I got to come too,” Optimus mused off handedly.

“It promotes a lot of things, including healthy respect,” Megatron rumbled with some amusement, “knowing another species tells you a lot about their motivations. Warrior, diplomat, nuances, thinking and words, no world is ruled by only one thing. Not even the Dragonians who are predominantly ruled by their Warrior cast.”

“And more can be solved by five breem talking than in fifty vorn fighting,” The irony was not lost on Optimus, the Autobots had spent far longer fighting the Decepticons and it had not taken him long of talking to understand far more and achieve far more than the fighting had ever achieved.

“Pointless fighting is just as destructive as pointless diplomacy,” Megatron shrugged again, careful not to shift under the smaller frame. Trust… he supposed so at least. 

“Now look at that, this is why I admire the Dragonian warrior cast,” in the arena the two combatants were at rest, weapons brandished but not for fighting. The two headed, lizard like alien was pointing out something on his own weapon, and then on the other’s. 

“Hmm? What are they doing?” Optimus had not really been focusing that much on the arena floor, but now he was curious as to what was going on.

“And that is very true.”

“Discussing forging methods, and, by the looks of it, the use of blood grooves,” Megatron rumbled with some amusement, “knowing your weapon and how to make or repair it, even if only theoretically, is a great strength for any warrior. Knowing what it does, how the little details work, even more so. If you don’t respect your own weapon, how can you respect that of another?” 

“That makes sense,” Optimus nodded after thinking about it for a moment, “Dragonians certainly do seem to know a lot about the ‘art of war’ and all involved.”

He realised that such was not just about direct fighting but also about weapon lore and care.

“It is what their culture revolves around. Some of the more peaceful races find it difficult to understand, some even fear it. But it is no different than a culture that revolves around poetry,” he pointed across the arena, where a small delegation of Denobian diplomats were animatedly talking, “or one that revolves around creating items,” he pointed to a Viridaning, the insectoid standing in lone glory at the lip of the arena pit. 

“You found the practice of them kulling their own… abhorrent, until it was explained in terms you understood. You may still not like it, but there is a reason behind it that is inarguably sound. Just as there is an inarguably sound reason behind our kind not doing the same. Sometimes practices do not have arguably good reasons behind happening, sometimes you can actually argue for change. But most of the time it is not an advisable course to take, when a whole society is based on it. What is important is that a society is healthy as it rests in itself, change will come eventually, whether provoked by stagnation or by rebels from inside is not for outsiders to decide.” 

“That is why I need to return to Cybertron with my delegation, as much as I feel I would be better appreciated and have a proper place with you,” Optimus stated with determination and nuzzled Megatron’s chest, carefully avoiding the spark plates.

Megatron actually stiffened, surprised at the frank speech and well, what? Not that he had been in the least bit careful about his statements to the smaller mech! Primus only knew that, but the little Prime hadn’t precisely been recalcient in telling him what he could do with that. If polite about it. 

“I would not respect you half as much if you simply abandoned your people,” that was the truth, even though he would understand giving in to the temptation of it. It would be a coup for him, but it would be a blight for the Prime. Both personally and to his image. Optimus was not of a personality that would take well to abandoning his own.


	14. Chapter 14

Optimus stopped nuzzling when he felt Megatron stiffen.

“I still need to talk with the Nerila. I feel they know something, or at least sense something different about me. Something I think will be important,” Optimus sighed, settling back to watch again.

“Mm, if they will answer a direct question. They might not even know, their Heart knows, but if that will speak or not…” it had spoken to Optimus once, it might do so again. Megatron was not going to promise it though. The Nerila hive was certainly enigmatic, if not precisely secretive. 

“Hmm, true, but still, it is worth a try and I do need to find out what they had wished to talk with me about when Ultra insulted them so,” Optimus nodded then sighed. It was something he was feeling rather curious about.

“Honestly… I think he angered them by so openly flaunting the rules of the gathering. Not per say breaking them, but certainly going where he should not,” Megatron rubbed the bridge of his olfactory sensor, relaxing a bit more.

“I could be wrong… but they never choose a voice lightly, there is something to you past what optics see.”

“Warlord Sisnaticka seems to believe there is something more. And that is why I feel I need to speak with the Nerila. I don’t even know what he did,” Optimus shrugged in the end it didn't matter, only the results of it did.

“Your Magnus?” Megatron couldn't help chuckling even as he asked.

“Yes, what did he do? I can’t even imagine the Nerila angry, let alone what it would take,” Optimus twisted to look up at Megatron.

“He demanded they choose him as voice,” Megatron shook his head, still not quite believing it.

“Challenging for the role of voice can happen, but trying to demand… and rejecting a previous voice without a reason? What surprised was how violently they responded.”

“Not to defend him or anything but it is very likely that my Magnus did not even know what he was demanding. It is something I can imagine him doing unknowingly then continuing to insist,” Optimus huffed once again feeling irritation at the other Autobots.

“Your Magnus is old enough to know better,” Megatron snorted, “this is not his first trip here, nor the first time he met a Nerila.”

“It’s not?” Optimus frowned, of course it would not be, but then why was he being so antagonistic to everyone? he had to know better.

“None of this makes any sense. Why did he bring us here?”

“I have no idea, the statement was to trade ore among other items, but no one has had anything out of approaching for trade,” Megatron shrugged lightly, “I have very few answers for you, little Prime.”

“It was at this point rhetorical, I know only Ultra Magnus will know the answer. Longarm has told me that there is nothing to trade despite what the statement says,” Optimus burrowed in against Megatron’s plating, seeking comfort. It hurt deeply. The steady pulse of the strong spark was soothing though.

This time Megatron huffed and simply put an arm around the smaller mech. Seeking comfort… odd, but maybe not so very surprising. Prime or not the mech was very young, and very lost.

Optimus slowly relaxed in Megatron’s embrace, his systems settling.

“I just… I feel like it’s up to me to do something. But I don’t know what it is or what I can even do. But I can’t bare to stand by any longer and do nothing,” He keep his voice low, his voice almost despondent, what could he do?

“Not alone, not abruptly,” Megatron pointed out, “and you may already have allies. This Longarm… I'm sure that you can find others. “

“Maybe. I should go look for the Nerila, I don’t have too much longer that I can safely remain out for, not if I wish to slip the leash unnoticed again,” Optimus huffed.

“You will probably find them in the Atriums, I know they enjoy spending time with some of the other Hive types,” he hardly blamed them that, and hive species were very often interesting indeed.

“More than likely. Thank you, and I hope to see you again before this is all over,” Optimus reluctantly slid from Megatron’s lap, he really did need to speak with the Nerila though.

“Unless your Magnus decides to be more than foolish, I will at least see you at the last dance,” Megatron let the small mech go, with some regret. 

“Take care.”

“I hope he does not manage to get us thrown out before then. We will meet again,” Optimus smiled up at Megatron before turning to and leaving to find the Nerila.

It did not take long to find the Atriums and from there finding the Nerila was easy…

“The Optimus,” if a Nerila could be surprised, this one was. Or sounded it at least.

“The Optimus greets the Nerila Heart. It is not known to the Cybertronian delegation that I am here. However I felt the need to speak with the Nerila Heart,” Optimus bowed politely, greeting the Nerila as best as he knew how.

“The Heart listens,” the Nerila gestured to seats, not reacting to the mention of Cybertron.

Optimus graciously took a seat before speaking again, “The Optimus wishes to understand what the Nerila Heart sees in this mech. I am young by the standards of my race and educated in, what I am now coming to realize was, a highly censored environment.”

“Strength,” the Nerila swayed for a moment, “light, future. Potential.”

Optimus remained silent, thinking about the different meanings for each word.

“The Optimus thanks the Nerila Heart. Was there anything the Nerila Heart wished to speak with the Optimus about?” Optimus realised the answer was in those words, he simply had to figure it out. What he felt was the meaning was far larger than he was truly comfortable admitting at this time though.

“A message,” the Nerila stilled, its top bending forward. 

“The quintessa empire is testing borders. The Heart wishes contact with the Spark once more, slumbering is no longer the wisest course… the children must stop the divide.”

“The Spark?” Optimus frowned for a long moment before realisation hit, “Primus. It is known to the Optimus that our homeworld is the physical form of our creator. How has the Nerila Heart and Primus spoken before?” Optimus was intrigued, but how to wake their god?

“The voice, the Nerila speak, listen, speak. As now, but only the Nerila listens now,” there was some amusement in the statement. And a deep sympathy.

Again Optimus took his time puzzling that statement out. Every spark knew Primus, but could not directly speak with their creator, but there was said to be a way for a specially chosen spark, chosen by Primus himself. But perhaps they were chosen by creation not the more random manner often assumed.

“The Optimus believes he understands. The Chosen voice, chosen by Primus. How am I to find them? Or…” Optimus optics widened, “Or does the Nerila Heart believe the Optimus to be Primus’ chosen voice?”

“The Heart knows,” again the top swayed, bent and leaned towards the small mech.

“Knows?... Oh Primus,” Optimus frowned then breathed as realisation hit, he wanted to find Megatron again and crawl into his warm embrace, just to hide somewhere he felt safe for a time.

“The Optimus thanks the Nerila Heart for informing me for this of which I was ignorant,” The words slipped out on automatics, Optimus sat back in his seat processors racing.

“The Heart urges caution. The Optimus is not safe, none entities wishes harm…” the Nerila paused for a long moment, “not harm status quo, stagnation, control. Stagnation is death.”

“The Optimus realises how precarious this position is. I will exercise caution.”

There was one thing he could do, a pilgrimage to the core. There was so many entrances to the underworld that it was impossible to monitor them all so instead the council had a scare campaign, Monsters, Mech who venture down never returning, not just the odd mech but all. Optimus felt a twinge of reflexive guilt at that, he knew it was not true because on of his first orn on Cybertron he had gotten lost and found his way down. After a time in the tunnels and not seeing anyone else he had realised and backtracked.

“The Heart will wait,” the Nerila swayed back, stilling once more.

“Is there anything else the Nerila Heart wishes to say? I must be getting back to my rooms or risk being caught,” Optimus was aware that he had stayed out far longer than he had intended, he had not been comm.ed so that was good news but that could not last indefinitely.

“Go with peace,” the Nerila hummed lightly. There was little the Heart could do, other than hope. It was limited to its extensions… as was the Spark.

“May the Nerila Heart prosper,” Optimus stood and bowed to the Nerila before hurrying back to his rooms. He had a lot to think about and plans to make.

Optimus was relieved to find the way still clear, whatever Longarm had done it certainly had a lasting effect. Back in his room he felt a tension release and determination take its place. He still felt scared and confused, but he was no longer lost, he knew what he had to do now.


	15. Chapter 15

“You were away long,” it was not an accusation, but there was curiosity in the statement. Longarm was more than curious really, 

“I met a few beings that I desired to converse with,” Optimus was not overly surprised that Longarm was waiting in his room and managed to answer calmly, “But it was with the last that I lost track of time a little.”

“What can you say you know of Primus?” 

“Primus? Uh, well, you do not have any easy questions, do you?” Shockwave wondered at that, ‘Longarm’s’ optical ridges furrowing in thought. 

“Just what do you want to know about our deity?” neither Shockwave nor Longarm was much into theology after all. But there were things he knew simply because he was older than Optimus Prime. 

“I simply want to know if you know anything of how Primus is said to have communicated with us, his creations. There was something the Nerila Heart said…” Optimus frowned. The Heart had spoken to him again, he had not missed Megatron’s surprise at the dinner. It only lent support to all of this.

“Something that I will need to explore when we return to Cybertron.”

“Oh, that is simple. He gave our world items, artifacts and the thirteen of course. As far as I know all the artifacts were lost, the last being the Allspark. The thirteen were all Primes, but not much is known of them,” Shockwave shrugged, “that is about all I know.”

“Artifacts? I have heard of the Thirteen, if only in reference. So Primus could communicate with his Primes through these artifacts?” Optimus questioned, he had a feeling that the artifacts were not truly gone. Primus would not leave them without a way to communicate with him. He just had to find a way.

“Not the Primes only, there were… other titles, but yes,” Shockwave nodded, “I do not know anything of most of them. One however was called The Matrix. Supposedly it could choose the spiritual leader of Cybertron.” 

“Oh and what can you tell me of the Matrix and this spiritual leader?” Optimus felt something deep in his spark, a conviction that this was the right path, that he needed to find the Matrix.

“Only that the leader was called The Prime, and that he was chosen by the artifact, not by anyone else,” Shockwave shrugged, “the last was one Nova Prime… but if records are to be believed he was chosen by the council, and the Matrix was lost before his time.”

“The Prime…” Optimus thought about that attention turned inwards. He felt something in his spark.

“Have you heard of a mech being the voice for Primus?”

“Only in the sense that this Prime figure supposedly was the living voice of Primus. Able to speak his words to the people and let them touch Primus through him,” Shockwave shrugged lightly.

“What I am about to tell you must be kept in absolute confidence,” Optimus moved to face Longarm directly searching for and waiting for confirmation.

“All that we do must remain in confidence, but I understand,” Shockwave nodded, surprised at the steel in voice and innocently blue optics. 

“I spoke with the Nerila Heart and found out what they had wanted to speak with me about. The Heart calls me the voice for Primus. That is why they are so insistent and have not even approached anyone else in the Cybertronian delegation for anything. The Heart wishes to speak with the ‘Spark’ once more. The spark being Primus,” Optimus explained in low level tones maintaining optic contact, showing Longarm just how serious he was.

“The Prime… but you do not carry this Matrix artifact, do you?” Shockwave knew he did not, but… how would the Nerila know of any of this? 

“Why does it believe you to be this voice?”

“They don’t just believe it, the Nerila I spoke with… Well I spoke with the Heart, said, and I directly quote, ‘The Heart knows’. The Heart also said that it has spoken with Primus before. I don’t know how they can tell who. But the Nerila do appear to have strong psychic abilities, likely an overflow of the structure of their hive mind. But no, I don’t carry this Matrix. But I do plan on taking a pilgrimage to the core when we return to Cybertron,” Optimus felt nervous and exposed sharing this with another Autobot but he knew he would need all the help he could get to slip away once back on Cybertron.

“That will be hard to arrange,” Shockwave sat back and rubbed his blue optics. More than hard really. 

“You do know that all known wells are guarded, right?”

“Yes… I do know of one that is not though. When I first arrived on Cybertron I got lost and found my way into the tunnels. I still remember where that entrance was,” Optimus admitted a little slyly, at first he had been mortified and had told no one to avoid punishment after he had found out it was forbidden without permission. But here and now it was a good thing unless it had been found in that time.

“I see… So the problem will be to get you out from under the Magnus,” and not into the tunnels. But that might well be difficult in itself. Magnus, Ultra, was a difficult mech at the best of times…

“Hmm, I suppose it will depend on how he acts when we return.”

“Yes and if I am simply kept under watch or actually arrested. At this point I would not put anything past him,” Optimus sighed finally looking away.

“We need to keep our conversations, the very fact that you are meeting me secret, or you could easily be suspected too or at least kept away from contacting me and therefore helping.”

“For now I am trusted,” but Shockwave was nodding his agreement.

“I think we should wrap this up, someone might come to check on me or try looking for you,” Optimus was reluctant to part from any welcome company but the longer Longarm stayed with him the greater the risk.

“Point, I will try and be available to you,” Shockwave nodded, but reluctantly. He did honestly like the young Prime… and if it was true? If he was The Prime…

“I appreciate that,” Optimus smiled reaching out to give Longarm a hug. He still did not know if he could fully trust him but he wanted to.

Shockwave accepted the hug, and hugged back a little stiffly. He was not used to any sort of physical contact anymore, it was too risky with an Autobot. Despite him wanting certain things with certain mechs. He might never have it, or perhaps he would have it. He would see, he supposed… 

“Be careful, Optimus, and be silent for now,” for all their sake the mech should keep low as much as possible. 

“I will, I promise,” Optimus drew back from the hug, smiling a little sadly but determinedly at Longarm.

“Now go on. Try and make sure we are not thrown out before the last dance.”

“Tall order,” but Shockwave grinned and left the other alone.

* * *

Optimus was bored; it had been several orn and Ultra Magnus was not letting anyone visit him, or for him to come out at all.

He spent the time recalling what he knew of the entrance and tunnels. It had been a well hidden entrance and thinking back now he was unsure how he had even gone in. Perhaps it had been Primus calling him?

::Optimus? If you wish a bit of free time, Magnus and ensemble will be off to conduct… well, negotiations I suppose, with the Goleres faction all night,:: Shockwave sent the comm more out of kindness than anything else. The young mech had been confined to his room and the delegation suite for far too long. A bit of roaming was not bad. As for himself he was going to spend time with sensible mecha for a bit. Deca Prime had promised to alert him when the delegation left, and unlike Rodimus, Deca could be trusted. Besides Deca thought it was a complete waste to have someone guarding Optimus in the first place, he just did not have the guts to say so to the Magnus. Still, he was useful to a certain point. 

::Thank you, Longarm. I think I will take it,:: Optimus replied giving no indication that he had just been woken from recharge. He spent most of his time recharging, he swore his processors had never been so organised or running this smoothly.

Stretching Optimus slid off the berth and cautiously exited his room. He was less cautious once he was out in the halls walking around mostly aimlessly hoping to find a hint of one he knew to talk with, but then there was little need for caution; he was safe out here.


	16. Chapter 16

"My lord,” Shockwave bowed, the blocky, clumsy Autobot form making the gesture less elegant. He would only transform if allowed, thanks to having taken guard duty with the younger Prime he had little clue as to whom might go blabber to Magnus if he was seen shifting between two Mecha forms.

If any, but better safe than sorry.

“Shockwave, if you please,” Megatron flicked his fingers at him, “it is disconcerting to see you in that form.”

Optimus had been walking past a set of rooms when he had heard a familiar voice though he could not determine who. But it was when he heard Megatron’s distinctive rumble that he decided to try the door. It was unlocked and he peeked in first to see if he was interrupting or if it would be ok for him to enter.

He saw Longarm then froze as he witnessed him transform.

A large hand propelled the small Autobot all the way into the room.

“It seems we have a spy, my lord,” Icy Blitzwing’s cool voice was low, but still easily heard as was the click of the door being closed behind him.

“Optimus?” the name came in stereo, both Megatron and Shockwave speaking. 

“I should have guessed you might come here,” Shockwave shook his head and turned to Megatron with a helpless gesture.

“Well… this might be a problem, or it might not. What do you think, little Prime?” Megatron settled back, lifting an optical ridge at Optimus.

Optimus looked between everyone not feeling threatened despite who he was with.

“No… it won't be a problem,” he spoke slowly but decisively then turned to face Shockwave directly. “What I want to know is why you could not give me a hint? You know I am in no position to tell the Magnus, not with the plans we have. Not at this point or for some time, and you know that.” He felt a sense of betrayal but no anger, not like with the Autobots, this he could understand.

“If it had been my secret to tell,” Shockwave looked at his lord, “but it is not, Optimus and too many lives are dependent on the information I obtain.”

“And you are an Autobot,” Megatron interjected, “no matter your status, or lack of one.”

“I am an Autobot, yes. And that can’t change. But likely not for the reasons you may think,” Optimus cast a glance around the gave a small half smile addressing Shockwave directly again, “Ironically this makes it so I can trust you more. Have you informed Megatron of what the Nerila informed me?”

“Yes, it was my duty,” it was always his duty. Shockwave was surprised to feel a bit uncomfortable about it all of a sudden.

“And about your plan to journey to the core,” Megatron rumbled, “it is not as dangerous as your council wants you to believe, but it is not as easy as it could be either.”

“Good,” Optimus turned to Megatron smiling, “Then perhaps we could discuss the safest course of action that will get me to the core. Without the weight of this secret in the way.”

He glanced over at Shockwave the smile still on his lips. He still felt upset but he understood and this was something he could work with now.

“There is not much help I can offer, but advice might be useful,” Megatron nodded, gesturing the small mech closer. 

“We were in fact about to discuss how ‘Longarm’ might give you that without getting you to question him.” 

“As Longarm I would not have access to research here,” Shockwave flicked his antenna.

“Well then, this just makes things less complex and more direct,” Optimus walked right up to Megatron without any hint of fear. He held up a hand indicating that he would not mind sitting in his lap again if Megatron did not mind.

Lifting an optical ridge Megatron nevertheless reached down and helped the smaller mech into his lap. He could not quite figure the small mech out, but then… was he supposed to? Things were certainly getting interesting!

“If you go to the core the scavengers and other creatures of the underworld is what you have to contend with. Most will leave you alone unless you threaten them or their young, but there are also some predators, and a few creatures so big they simply won’t notice if they come across you.”

Optimus settled, shifting so he was comfortable giving a small smile to the other Decepticons in the room, all of whom, apart from Shockwave, seemed rather surprised.

“I am an Autobot Prime, while not the same meaning as ‘The Prime’, it means I do have warrior training. Perhaps not up to warbuild standards but I am not entirely defenceless. What sort of predators are we talking about?” Optimus hummed curiously, tone good natured it seemed there was more than he had thought to take into consideration.

“Cyberscopions, Scraplets, Petrorats,” Megatron shrugged lightly, “some have no names, some have little known of them. Journeys to the core are a thing of the past, and the stories of them are mostly lost. However, among the protectors it is said to bring a blade, not a gun, and to walk with stealth.”

“My prefered weapon is my axe,” Optimus shuddered a little at the mention of scraplets, “I have heard of Scraplets. I would prefer not to encounter them at all.”

“Preferences often clash with reality,” Megatron rumbled an amused laugh.

“The drillers,” Shockwave added, motioning with a claw, “they belong in the ‘too big to notice you’ category. Even the Omega Sentinels would have trouble with just one of them, and they move in herds. Or so our limited information say.”

“Oh so how likely are they to pay attention to a lone small mechanoid? I doubt that even an energy weapon would do much to one if an Omega sentinel would have trouble,” Optimus hummed. 

“It’s not because they pay attention to you that they are dangerous,” Shockwave said, a little bit put upon, “its because they don’t notice you, at all!” 

“They would roll right over you and not even notice it,” Megatron added, “and that is the danger, you may think them easily seen, or heard, but they are not. One could be beside you, and you would not notice until it moved to roll its form onto you.”

“Is there a way to detect them? Or would I have to rely on my spark, it has not led me astray yet,” Optimus frowned, was it truly his spark or something else.

“Temperature if I recall correctly?” Megatron turned to Shockwave with the question.

“Correct, one should if possible avoid areas where the temperature rises drastically.”

“Such rises in temperature could hold other dangers too. Molten pits, acid pools. And if the council catches any hint of where I am going I will surely be followed. You have access to my files, Shockwave. From what you know, what of my skills and weaknesses should I pay most attention to?” They had time, and if Ultra did not get them thrown out, and Shockwave could find more times when he could get out, he could train.

“True, however the living things pose much more of a threat,” Megatron pointed out. 

“Stealth,” Shockwave’s answer was blunt.

“You are quite able with your weapon, and you are level headed. But sneaking is not something you are experienced or particularly skilled at.”

“True enough. Do you believe that we can use the remaining time here for me to train in sneaking?” Optimus asked, almost eager.

“Naturally, it is not like ‘Longarm’ has anything better to do,” Shockwave shrugged, antenna twitching. 

“Perhaps you should discuss that part once you are back at the Autobot quarters,” Megatron suggested. 

Optimus opened his mouth to agree when a devious little thought struck.

“Feeling a little left out are you?” He teased, twisting in Megatron’s lap he reached up cupping his face looking up at him directly, “It is a good idea though.”

“...” Megatron cooked his head and smiled, a slow, somewhat predatory one, “why thank you, little Prime, but the suggestion was more out of concern for you. This time should be for things you want all of us to answer to. Shockwave is well able to teach you stealth, but may not know answers to other things you need.”

“What are you willing to teach me? I have no more questions about the tunnels and if I do Shockwave will be able to find the answers if not provide them outright if the answer is known at all. So it would be for less directly relevant things,” Optimus flushed a little at the smile he was given, slowly taking his hand back. His spark was spinning just a little faster in response.

“And here I thought you always had questions,” Megatron rumbled the tease, but eased up fast, “I hardly see reason in hiding a lot from you. If you really are this fabled Prime of old then you may be the one that can welcome the warbuilds back to our homeworld. We would be content with visiting, our homes are no longer there after all.” 

“I would in a spark beat, and you know it, even if I am not the Fabled Prime. But if that is so what do you think Ultra may be up to? He has shown no concern over potential invasion by the Quints… deciding to come here around the same time as they are becoming more active,” Optimus’ optics widened at the potential implication, “He wouldn’t make a closed door deal with the Quints would he?”

Right now Optimus cursed his too clear processors, this thought was rather unpleasant and he almost wished he had not had it.

“I should hope not,” Megatron frowned and looked to Shockwave. 

“... I can only say that he has said nothing of such to the council or the Primes, not that I have been able to find out at least. However there are council meetings I am not able to get into, or get transcripts of…”

“If it is the case, and I hope it is not. I can’t see the Quintessons honouring it. We are taught that they, above all other races, other than… well you know, They can’t be trusted on any level.” Optimus burrowed in against Megatron’s plating, trying to hide from his own thoughts.

“Let us call that the worst case scenario, shall we? I may not like Ultra, but he was once an honorable mech,” Megatron rumbled, unconsciously stroking a hand down the small Mecha back in a soothing gesture. 

“I shall attempt to make plans,” Shockwave acknowledged.

Optimus calmed at the touch, purring softly he sighed, “In this it is not so much Ultra’s honour or lack thereof, that I am worried about, but the Quints. I do know that Ultra and the council would not want Cybertron to fall into… anyone else's hands.”

“They have none, so worrying about that is futile,” Megatron barked a rough laughter, “worry about getting yourself whole to the core and back! Let Shockwave hunt down what he can and then the two of you can see if there is something to worry about at all!”

Optimus could not help but chuff a laugh at that, despite the words not alleviating his worry one bit, “Then I suppose it is even more imperative that we succeed. And though I hate to admit it leaving here early will only help grant more time. But I don’t want to leave early. And that would make it harder with restarting trade when it becomes time for that…” He knew he was babbling a little, but he also wanted to let Megatron know how he felt, if only in a roundabout way, there was no way known that he would say how much he liked Megatron, not that directly. Not yet.

“You should not leave early if at all possible,” Megatron rumbled, cautioning, “there are those that would understand you leaving in particular, considering how the Magnus treats you. But it would still be viewed as an insult and as the Cybertronians flaunting every rule and etiquette surrounding this. Ultra is already making it hard enough for you to return.” 

“That is true, though I know that I personally have beings who will vouch for me. But Autobots… no, not with how Ultra is acting. All the more reason for me to do this. So others can see that Ultra is not a favored leader by all under his rule.” It still hurt to admit, but Optimus knew he had to be honest with himself. His time here had truly opened his optics. 

“And all the more reason for you to stay till the final dance,” Megatron pointed out, “to show that you do care even if your leader does not.” 

“True at that. I do want to stay until the end of the summit. We just have to keep Ultra from getting us thrown out. There is nothing we can do if he simply decides to leave though,” Optimus sighed.

“But then it will not be you leaving, but rather you dragged away,” Megatron pointed out, “that will keep your honor intact, if not that of the Cybertronians.”

“Their honour is in tatters as it is. I have listened at the door whenever I could to the other Primes talking. The things they are saying that other races have said in their hearing. Which is further than many organic races realise. It is very obvious the Primes and Ultra are not welcome.” It was small things really but even a few whispered words here and there were more than enough.

“They reap what they sow,” Megatron shrugged lightly. 

“Things can only get better, if you manage this task of the Nerila Heart.”


	17. Chapter 17

Optimus simply nodded, turning to look towards Shockwave, “How much longer do you believe we have?”

“Not too much longer, Optimus, unless you want it to get risky,” Shockwave shrugged lightly, antenna flicking. 

“Hmm, you had better both go then,” not that he really wanted the smaller mech to leave his lap, but he had no right to hold him either. Megatron huffed softly. 

“Thank you for your time… and sorry for dropping in the way I did,” Optimus said, chastised, he knew it would bother him if he left and said nothing, but also realised that now was the last opportunity to say it. “We will be in contact again, one way or another.” The words were an offering, he could feel the reluctance in Megatron’s fields, but he really did have to leave or risk the entire meeting having been for nothing.

Carefully he slipped from Megatron’s lap and headed out the door, giving Shockwave a chance at a few moments with his comrades without him present.

“My lord?” Shockwave questioned softly.

“Keep him safe,” Megatron inclined his head, and dismissed the spy master.

Shockwave transformed and slipped into the hall to join his 'fellow’ Prime.

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you have more time alone with your comrades,” Optimus apologised as ‘Longarm’ caught up with him. “The others… uh, they were not really talkative.”

“Do not worry,” Shockwave shook his head, “any time is stolen time, and my lord wished to know of you.”

“Yes, Megatron did say he had wished to discuss how to pass along information to me, without me becoming suspicious of you.” Optimus gave a small smile in return.

“Hmm, I was forbidden to break cover,” Shockwave inclined his head.

* * *

It was nice after that, being able to talk with ‘Longarm’. Properly talk, not that they had a lot of time where they could but then having each other's comm’s came in handy.

“So we have a few Joor. Have you decided how to best teach me sneaking?” Optimus asked as soon as Shockwave had given him the all clear. The Magnus and the rest of the Primes were out doing something again.

“I hardly think there is a best way, you will have to hop in with both pedes first,” Shockwave made a light motion with his blunt fingers, and huffed. 

“You are a big mech, for you sneaking is best done by blending in where possible.”

“How would that be achieved in the tunnels? I had been thinking of things like learning to walk silently, controlling my fields, things like that. Not that I won’t mind learning for other situations but the tunnels are kinda our most pressing one. Right?” Optimus could not help but wonder what else would be required before too long, before or even after his journey to the core and back.

“The tunnels require a completely different sort of sneaking, first of all you need to get to them without drawing attention to yourself. That is what you should learn first, since I am fairly sure our Magnus will have you watched when we return to Cybertron,” Shockwave shook his head, “I considered it at length, you need to be able to go into the tunnels undetected.” 

Optimus nodded, accepting Shockwave's more experienced opinion. “How would you suggest I practice for that? An electronic paint job and perhaps some added kibble?” That could fool most well enough and would be within their ability to get quite easily.

“That yes, but you also need to be able to change your mannerism,” Shockwave pointed to himself, and changed into his true form. 

“I do not move as Longarm do I?” it was partly the different frame, but also affected. Longarm was slower, less graceful than Shockwave. He moved like someone ‘heavy set’ while Shockwave moved with a fluidity that spoke of ease with his form. 

“That is what you need to learn, appearance will only fool the uneducated.” 

Despite knowing, it was still startling to see the spy change form, but Optimus pushed through that to observe.

“I think I understand. You chose a movement pattern based on the typical for the form. I suppose I could adapt more of a dock worker posture and gait. I first got work on Cybertron amongst them. And my frame type is common enough among them.” Optimus agreed still observing the Decepticon spy.

“Yes, blending in with where you are,” Shockwave nodded and shifted back to Longarm, “let me see.”

It took a moment for Optimus to recall the posture and mannerisms but once he did it all came back to him easily.

“How ya t’ink ah this?” Optimus grinned as he made a lap of the room. Even the accent was easy to fall back on even though it was not his original way of speaking.

“Surprisingly effective, all you need is different colors and some kibble,” Shockwave nodded, “can you affect other social mannerisms? There are places where this would not be appropriate for blending in after all.”

“Not really. I _can_ do Hydron IV slums, but I hardly think that would be useful,” Optimus huffed, finals folding back as far as they went, he did not like to remember that place.

“I am willing to try what you think may be useful.”

“Do not discount it, the slums are good places to lose a watcher,” Shockwave pointed out, “what about the higher echelon? Can you move like a Nobel or a career politician?”

Optimus shook his helm a little, “Hydron IV’s slums are different, distinctive. I know a few others who escaped there, recognised them by their mannerisms. No, I have not been trusted to be close enough to properly observe anyone like that.”

“Then that is what we shall work on,” Shockwave pointed to the center of the floor. 

“Stand there.”

Obediently Optimus moved to the spot wondering what Shockwave was going to do or say, since it could easily be either. But he trusted that it was part of the lessons. In fact there was no thought of otherwise, he trusted in him.

“It all comes down to poise, if you have the right poise and can move naturally with it mechs will assume that you belong to a certain echelon or cast,” Shockwave moved to stand before the other mech, “chin up, look down on me.” 

Optimus despite listening to what Shockwave was saying could not help the half step back at the order, shocked and surprised.

“Sorry,” He murmured stepping back into place and attempting to do as told, but not really sure how well he managed. Having his chin up was fine, chin up proud stance was a part of boot camp training after all. But he had never looked down on a mech before and felt odd and uncomfortable trying it now.

“This is why so few excel in espionage, it is difficult to fake mannerism fully,” Shockwave shook his head, “fortunately you only need to be able to do it well enough to fit in for a little and then move on.”

He corrected the stance, explained movements and expressions and coached until the younger mech could fake being a noble, at least until someone got him speaking. 

Optimus was decidedly uncomfortable with faking being noble, most of the mannerisms were strange to him and some even felt plain wrong. But he tried his best, wishing to make Shockwave proud of his progress and confident enough that he could pull this off, that he could escape and get himself to the core.

“I think we should call it for this orn, the others will be back soon,” Shockwave huffed, “you are doing well for someone not suited to spy work.”

“Thank you. I do find it uncomfortable. But… I know we will need every advantage we can get. I think I will recharge. That is my ‘normal’ now after all,” Optimus huffed but nodded, annoyed at the situation but not willing to complain. “I will make sure to work on what I can when I can safely do so.”

“Take care,” Shockwave nodded and left quietly.

It continued like that as the remaining groon of the gathering ticked by. Optimus took in what he could, learning from Shockwave how to hide first in plain sight then adding lessons in sneaking out of sight. How to move as silently as his frame would allow, but quickly too.

Shockwave was pleased with the Prime's progress, though the mech would never be an ops agent. He reported that to Megatron.


	18. Chapter 18

The time of the last Dance arrived and Megatron wondered if he would have a partner or not.

Just how far would Ultra go?

Optimus only knew that it was time for the last dance because he had been keeping meticulous time and Shockwave had let him know. It was blatantly obvious that he would have to sneak out if he wanted to be a part of it. And that was something he very much knew he did. A chance to dance with Megatron one last time. One last chance to see him before they had to leave.

He also knew that he had to stop fooling himself. He cared for Megatron. Found him attractive. And Megatron liked him in return to some degree. How far that went he did not know.

There was less announcement at this last dance. Partners were led to each other and then 'let loose’. The core of the space station resembled a huge bar or dance club, honeycombed with rooms big and small, social or intimate. 

While the last Dance was as important as the first, it was far less rigid. Less… constructed. Most knew each other by now, knew whom to avoid and whom they might wish to entertain with. The only real rule was to stay with the designated partner. Megatron suspected that was more for the sake of planning, than for any political reasons.

Slipping out was easier than Optimus had expected before, even though Ultra was not, or at least had said he had no intention or desire to partake in the festivities of the final dance. It was easy because everyone was ready packing. And it was then Optimus realised that they planned on leaving during the dance. A time when no one would likely be able to stop them, most security focused on the section of the station that the dance was happening in. He did wonder as he slipped out into the now deserted hallway if Ultra would leave without him. But then he knew Shockwave would alert him if that was the case.

Using his recent training he stole through the halls to the designated room where the partners were to meet before going off to enjoy.

“No, I do not know if, ah! Speaking of the mech,” Megatron smiled at the small Prime, pleased to see him. More than pleased. 

The dragonian ambassador who had asked about the Prime gave a low rumbling laugh and excused himself. Three could be a crowd after all!

“Lord Megatron,” Optimus purred bowing low, one hand held out to the larger mech, as he stood straight once more, a glance darted at the retreating dragonian.

“I do not know how long I will have. Ultra has everyone packing ready to leave. But I had no intention of leaving without saying farewell.”

“Let's go be seen, we can talk while we walk,” Megatron tucked the offered hand into the crook of his arm.

“Longarm will notify you if Ultra decides to leave prematurely?”

“He will. I am glad that he had proved to be trustworthy, despite the risks to himself if Ultra was to find out,” Optimus assured more for those listening than for Megatron. Megatron already knew that Shockwave would make sure he was not left behind. Such were the benefits of knowing.

“Mm, it is good to have allies,” Megatron nodded, setting them on course for the main dancefloor. Much as he desired privacy, this was a statement that Optimus needed to make.

“That it is. And I am glad to be able to call you, not just an ally I hope, but friend,” Optimus offered softly, letting Megatron lead them. Everything was a statement, every word, every gesture. Shockwave had taught him that as well, but had also assured him that he should be himself for the dance, just to keep watch on what he was saying. Words could be dangerous.

“I would gladly accept friendship,” and more, but this was not hardly the time and place for more.

“Now, what do you think of the last Dance?” He gestured to the wide door, leading into the big multi tiered dancefloor.

“I am glad to hear that. What I think?” Optimus smiled taking a good look around, “I think it is wonderful, but also that I have barely seen any of its true grandeur. You have done this before, tell me what you think?”

“It is more relaxed than the other two events, even intimate. I find it a good end to all the work that is done here,” Megatron answered truthfully, shrugging lightly, “the Nerila are not fond of this sort of gathering, finding that it scatters them too much.”

“I can admit that I like the intimacy now, but I would not have if this style was first.” Optimus stopped Megatron walking, slipping his hand from the crook of Megatron’s arm, stepping around until they were facing each other. They were on part of the dance floor and he saw no reason not to dance.

“Few likes to be this intimate from the start,” Megatron agreed with a smile, a smile that turned into a smirk.

“Would have been fun though, you were so easily teased.”

Optimus nodded in agreeance not really thinking about what was being said too deeply. Not until his databanks pulled up an instance, several instances of that teasing.

“So, did you actually mean it when you said… oh how did it go? Something about how I would look fragged out of my processors?” Optimus found it exciting and yet nerve wrecking to ask that, but he wanted to and he was no longer afraid of Megatron. Nor of what he made him feel.

“That you would look amazing, fragged out of your little processor? Yes, I meant it,” Megatron rumbled a laugh, “no sarcasm, no irony, and no longer a tease. You are a very appealing mech, Optimus. Ultra must have gone blind with old age.”

“That’s the one. Fortunate for both of us that he has. If only we had more time I might actually take you up on that offer,” Optimus said honestly. “Dance with me?”

“Quite the tease yourself, hmm?” but Megatron took the invitation to dance, smiling again.

“Promise me not to be too impatient when you go back. Let them get lax before you set out.”

“I promise only that I will take the best opportunity presented to me. The one most likely to lead to success. I say this because we have no idea what sanctions Ultra will try to place on me. Or if there might even be a trial. My window of opportunity might actually be very slim. Or else it could all too easily come too late.” Optimus shook his helm sadly, moving through the familiar steps with Megatron’s guidance.

“True, but I shall accept the promise of caution, and trust that Longarm will do his best to keep you safe,” Megatron answered softly. 

“Happier subject?”

“Hmm, yes a subject change is in order. You seem quite familiar with the Nerila. I can not imagine you managed that without trial and error? Unless you do not wish to speak of something like that.” Optimus chuckled, imagining it a little like how the Dragonians tolerated the Nerila but clearly did not understand them.

“It helped that they approached us, not the other way around,” Megatron chuckled, “but I found it very annoying that they insisted on speaking to me only.”

“They seem to talk with other Decepticons now. I suppose that is a trust thing? Or familiarity with who you trust for various tasks.” Optimus added thinking about what he knew of the Nerila.

“A little of both I believe, as well as their trust in us having grown. They do have specialists too, who wish to speak to other specialists,” Megatron's derma twitched in a smile that wanted to be a grin.

“Hook nearly had a spark flux when one approached him on healing injured miners they worked with.”

“I take it that Hook is your medic then. Yes I can imagine that would be more than a little disconcerting. Especially not knowing what to expect in advance,” Optimus chuckled.

“He is,” Megatron nodded, “and he is good, calm, until that incident I would have said unflappable.”

“No one is entirely unflappable,” Optimus shrugged, a small movement, small enough to not disrupt their movements across the dancefloor.

“True, no one is entirely anything,” Megatron agreed, “but I had never seen anything cause him to lose his calm. It was quite amusing.”

“Never? Really must have been something. I wish I had had more opportunity and time this time for proper introductions. Next time we meet perhaps I could meet the rest of your entourage,” It was a promise as well as a statement for those around them, something Optimus tried to keep in mind. He needed to generate as much goodwill towards himself personally as he could before he had to leave.

“What time you had, had to be prioritized,” but Megatron nodded, smiling, “I should be only too glad to introduce you to my officers and trusted advisers. And of course my chassis guards, though you have met one of them.”

“I am pleased to hear that. I have? Whom was that?” Optimus frowned slightly in thought. He could think of no one he had met in public so that could only mean those he had met in private. And would Megatron really be willing to talk about that in such a public space?

“Blitzwing of course,” Megatron laughed, “you nearly ran him over at the Meridian dance. When you hurried to leave? Big, soft purple, black and grey?”

“Oh,” Optimus blushed ducking his helm, though he was smiling and that smile could be heard in his next words, “I hope he doesn’t think poorly of me for that.” He did know who Blitzwing was.

“No, he's mostly amused, it takes a lot to tick him off,” Megatron shook his head lightly. 

“Come to think of it, most are amused and bemused. But as I have chosen to trust you, so will they.”

Optimus chuckled, feeling pleased. “I will do my utmost to ensure that your trust in me is not misplaced. I have placed my own trust in you after all. And I do wish to foster that as much as I am able in my current position.” That was a promise, one Optimus was determined to keep until his end. Or until his trust was broken, but he knew that would not happen without due cause.

“And I, we, do know you are bound by that. Do not worry,” Megatron promised, this was as much show as truth after all.


	19. Chapter 19

“Perhaps we have time for a last meal together?”

“I would greatly enjoy sharing another meal with you. But hopefully it will not be our last together.” Optimus smiled, he knew he was harping on that point, but he wanted there to be no mistake amongst those around them, those listening in. That and his words were truthfully meant.

“No, simply the last of this summit,” Megatron agreed easily, “I shall hope for another to happen sooner rather than later! But come, we cannot eat on the dance floor after all.”

He led his smaller partner to the side of the dance floor and through yet another hall. 

Optimus laughed, a light happy sound as he clung to Megatron’s arm, letting the larger mech lead the way.

“True at that,” Optimus agreed. He felt light, happy, even though he knew Longarm could contact him any moment. Ultra could notice him missing any time.

“What kind of fuel do you feel like?” Megatron kept the pace slow, they might not have a lot of time, but he was going to make sure they enjoyed what they had!

“There is virtually anything the spark could desire, it is simply a matter of where to go?”

“Show me some of your favorites?” Optimus asked unsure what else he could say. He knew all too little about what other forms energon could be made into, despite what he had already tried.

“Jellyrolls then,” Megatron veered them off to the right and to a lift. Three stories up he led his companion into a cozy little place where a deft blender made Jellyrolls to order.

“Ooh.” Optimus optics brightened when he saw the fuel crafting station. “They are made fresh?” he could actually watch them being made? Optimus thought that even if they were not to his taste he would still enjoy this.

“Yes, you order them to your preference,” Megatron asked for one with blue jelly, iron, lead and copper filling.

Optimus thought for a moment. He had noticed that he liked mild green energon. Nodding to himself he made his own order. Mild green jelly, copper, lead and a hint of gold.

“It is fascinating to watch, isn't it?” Megatron hummed, watching as blue and green energon was mixed into a jelly and then shaped to squares, dusted with the filling, rolled up and sliced into bite sized bits that were artfully arranged on a plate.

“It is, very much so,” Optimus agreed as he watched fascinated and more than a little eager to try the fuel.

“Sirs,” the plates were put before them, along with thin utensils.

“Go on, try,” Megatron urged, taking a slice himself.

“How are these supposed to be used?” Optimus asked, frowning slightly as he looked over the thin ‘thing’. He reached for one of the green ones as he waited for the reply, Megatron did not seem to feel the need to use the thing so he did not feel obligated.

Optimus moaned as he put the bite sized piece in his mouth. It was so very good.

“Here,” Megatron showed how the sticks were used, then put them down, “it is acceptable to eat with your fingers. The rolls. Other things not so much.”

“How about a sample platter?”

“Yes I would like to try the sample platter.” Optimus picked up the sticks, attempting to mimic Megatron’s actions. It was harder than it looked, but eventually he did manage to pick up a role though he did squish it a little, and bring it to his mouth.

Megatron waved at the blender again, asking for samples, and then returned to his own rolls. 

“There, now, as I said, these you may eat with your fingers, but some of the other things are… not to be handled.” 

“I know, but I do need the practice or how else would I be able to handle the items that require these?” Optimus readjusted his grip on the sticks again, calculation programming running to find the best way to manipulate the sticks to how he wanted to use them.

“True,” Megatron smiled and reached out to readjust the smaller mechs hold on the utensils, “there, better balance.”

Optimus smiled at Megatron. “Thank you. Their use is complicated for such simple appearing things.”

“It is different from just drinking, or using hands,” Megatron shrugged lightly, “it is not often we use utensils. I believe these are simply called ‘sticks’, but I am not entirely certain.”

“And we Autobots never use anything different.” Optimus shook his head at that folly telling Megatron a story of how Sentinel had tried to get a supply of ‘Proper Autobot fuel’, only to be met with confusion then dismay.

“Well, they do have energon, what was his objection to it?” Megatron was confused, and amused, by the anekdote. He really did not like the prime in question and it certainly sounded like it was mutual. 

“Your sample platter, sirs,” the blender put down a large platter between them, with a lot of different rolls, squares, ovals and other shapes of gelled energon and several other items that Megatron knew tasted good, but didn’t really know what was. 

“Enjoy.”

Optimus turned briefly to the blender, “Thank you.”

“His objection was that it was frivolous and wasteful. I think he did not want to admit the energon served here tastes much better.” Optimus shrugged attempting to pick up one of the more solid looking pieces.

“I see…” understand? Not so much, but Megatron hardly pretended to understand Autobots in general. Normal or extraordinary ones, he smiled at Optimus. 

“And you consider it…?”

“I don’t know the costs of the materials, but I can’t imagine it being expensive. Especially for what is gained. I mean on Cybertron, in the academy we have to take a cube of mineral enhanced medical grade energon once a vorn. That tastes like slag. But with this as long as we get a good balance that would not be needed at all. So I think this way, what is served here is far better, and not a waste,” Optimus said decisively. 

“That sounds awful, but as for the cost of this… the materials are pretty common, the same minerals and trace metals that are found in most mechanoid frames, some specific to type. Like gold and boron mixes for Tricellans. Those taste good for us too, but only sparklings really need the boron. No, the expensive part is the blenders, I could probably make some of this,” he gestured to the plate, “but it would not look nearly as appetizing.”

“It is, but it is not better or worse than what I had before going to Cybertron. Hydron IV does not treat the lower classes well at all. Cybertron is still better than that.” Optimus shuddered, drone grade was not palatable at all, but it was fuel.

“Few places treat their poor well, sadly,” Megatron rumbled, “and fewer places still have no poor at all. One should think we all learned to emulate those few, but no.”

“Most places don’t care. Oh… the nobles treat anyone lower than them as trash. But the ones who have nothing at all, they call glitched, bad code from sparking not from lack of maintenance but inherent.” Optimus shook his head sadly. “Cybertron is not that bad because they keep the different casts separated as much as is possible.”

“But that is also not a good way to handle such differences,” Megatron hummed, “it creates mistrust, envy and even hate. Slower than the other way, but still the same result in the end.”

“I see it now. I knew before but I never thought about it.” The calculation process finished and Optimus tired it out guiding his finger in holding the sticks to pick up one of the pieces.

“Mm, that one is spicy,” Megatron warned, taking one for himself.

“One can learn from other races, if one is willing. We have, and hope to learn much more in the future.”

Optimus frowned, he had no idea what spicy tasted like or why it needed to be warned about. Carefully he nibbled on it and was glad for his care as heat filled his mouth. It was the only way he could describe it. But it was not bad and the heat disappeared after not too long. He slowly ate the rest of it.

“Yes one certainly can, I know I personally have,” Optimus agreed between nibbling bites.

“It requires an openness that I have not seen from Cybertron in ages,” Megatron huffed, then smiled slightly, “do you like it? That one and this one also has spicy elements, these here are acidic or sour, and those mainly sweet.”

“I do like it, I don’t think I would like it if it was stronger though.” Optimus had no idea how to respond to the rest of what Megatron said.

“Then don't dip it in that,” he pointed to an orange dip in a little bowl on the side, “it is very spicy, some say it burns.”

“I will keep that in mind.” Optimus was curious but not curious enough to risk trying it.

They did not get long together, but at least it seemed Optimus got a good meal. Megatron could wish otherwise, but he reigned it in and just followed the smaller mech to the exit from the dance. Letting him go with a promise that they would see each other again, one orn, somehow. 

He would trust Shockwave to keep him safe at least. To the very best of his ability as spy, saboteur and autobot Prime. 

In the last moments Optimus had with Megatron he reached up, uncaring of who was watching and gave him a soft and swift kiss, when Megatron had complied and leaned down close enough.

In the next moment he was gone, slipping into his room while Longarm distracted everyone and came straight back out with his bag that he had packed earlier before going to the dance.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a multipart story and very slow burn!


End file.
